Love Is Merely A Madness
by KiltedLass
Summary: Warning: yet another Tarrant-involving story; couldn't resist :D Alice is quite successful in her world, but Fate is a mazy fellow, and you can never know where he'll lead you. Moreover it might well be that Underland is heading for another disaster.
1. Prologue

**Okay, here we go. This story was actually the reason why I joined this site. Who else would be interested in it if not some fellow-minded Alice/Tarrant-nutters on here? And of what use would a story be if it's not read? I do have an approximate idea where all this is going to lead, but things might change as I write, that's the way Underland works ;)**

***NEWS: Updated the first chapter, was too short. And added the prologue as well. Which, obviously, actually goes **_**before**_** the first chapter. I apologise for this inconvenience and promise that from now on, chapters will be put up in the right order. Problem is that I tend to write things in random order, which is not helping at all if you want to post a story...**

***MORE NEWS: I don't know if I am the last one here to find it, but in case anyone has not stumbled upon this yet:** www. slashfilm 2009/05/08/glossary-of-terms-for-tim-burtons-alice -in-wonderland/ - **_most_**** helpful! (That is, if you remove the space before and after 'slashfilm'...)**

**Oh, and guess what: don't own any of this, just toying! Now what a surprise, huh? :D**

**Prologue**

Underland simply wasn't the same anymore since Alice had left. At least not to him.

With a dreary frown the Hatter rammed another pin into the hat he was working on.

Or maybe neither was it the same to the others, and either he was too exalted in his feelings or everyone else except him was capable of extraordinary self-control, for it just couldn't be that they didn't miss their charming champion. Well, he had never been too keen on possessing useful qualities like self-control, what should it be good for anyway?

Another pin found its place into the felt of the hat.

No self-control whatsoever, let alone self-command. One would surely go mad if one tried to control or command a mind like his. Whereas, considering that he _was _mad – at least if one trusted the judgement of his friends and enemies –, maybe he actually _had_ once tried to control his mind and had therefore gone mad. Possible. He did not know just how close he had gotten to the truth at this point. But what use was there in pondering on nonsense like this.

Three more pins followed their brethren.

It had always been one of his greatest pleasures to think nonsense. If ordinary people possessed five senses, did nutters like him possess five nonsenses? But somehow this dear pastime didn't hold the same pleasure for him as it once had. Was he slowly going sane?

He immediately chased this thought out of his head by tucking more pins into the crown of the hat vigorously.

Vigorously. It was a long time that he had last used this word in a positive way, namely when he had last futterwackened vigorously, Alice just having slain the Jabberwocky and eyeing him with a mixture of surprise and delight, her brown eyes sparkling, everyone waiting for the celebrations of her triumph to begin. And then she had left. 'Vigorously' had changed its meaning since she had gone...

Pin, pin, pin, and another one here.

How long since then? He fished his watch out of his pocket and eyed it closely. It wasn't of much help, for it still refused to show the right time, but at least it didn't show six o'clock anymore. Actually it didn't show six o'clock at all. Any other time, but not six o'clock. Maybe to make up for the countless days that it had shown six o'clock _only_. Time was a funny fellow indeed. Queer sense of humour, even for underlandish standards. Didn't matter –

pin, pin –,

holding teaparties when no one was expected to come was pointless anyway. Moreover weren't they even half as much fun as before, he could never get rid of the feeling that everyone round the table was trying to cheer _him_! He had always been the centre of every party. Well, he still was, if he wanted to, but also this wasn't just half as much fun as it had once been. Couldn't she just have stayed? Life would have been so much easier, so much more colourful... Yes, life seemed to have lost a bit of its colour. Sure, there was laughter and fun and living and the usual madness, as there had always been and would always be. But life just wasn't that whole anymore, not that perfect... Pins, puns, perfection. Focus. Hat. He was late. He would use some butter for the clock mechanism, as Thackery had suggested. Just in case. Maybe then it would be easier to finish the queen's hats on time. Not that she minded if he was late.

He put the watch back in his pocket again and dreamily added a few more pins to the hat, then stood back one step to survey the result – just to witness flabbergastedly what his overactive subconscious had caused his hands to do while his mind had been adrift.

ALICE

was written in beady pinheads on the cream-coloured felt, teasing him, mocking him.

Accompanied by a roar and a flood of Outlandish jabbering, a hat soared out of one of the countless windows of Queen Mirana's marble castle and gently landed in a flowerbed. Much to the surprise of a hedgehog.


	2. A Perfect Life

**Chapter 1 - A Perfect Life**

„Alice, darling, you're late for tea!"

A mild, muttered curse answered the friendly invitation, thankfully completely muted by the door of Alice's room. Distracted by her mother's voice, the young woman had accidentally placed the point of the pin in her thumb instead of sticking it through the layers of cloth that should become her new travelling dress.

"Coming, mother!"

Quickly sucking the red drip of blood from her finger before it could stain the dove-coloured fabric, Alice draped the rest of the cloth over the dress stand. She'd finish it later. As well as the report she had promised Lord Ascot to be delivered to his writing desk the following morning. It wasn't nearly half finished. Not to speak of the scheduling to be done for the trip to India that should start in three months. She pushed the thoughts aside. Plans, reports, accounts, more new ideas, strategies to persuade old, doubtful men that the high-flown plans of a woman little over twenty years of age could be accomplished... And yet she loved being in this trade, she loved pursuing her ideas and making them come true. And each accomplished plan let five new ones flower in her mind, each goal reached gave her strength to aim for three new ones. It was as if she couldn't spend a single minute without doing something, without planning, realising, carrying out – life was there to be lived!

Well, the new dress would have to wait. Setting priorities was the most important one of the many new qualities she had gained during the past four years. No, almost five, her next birthday was only a week from now. Reluctantly she pinned another fold in place. Designing her own clothes was the latest addition to Alice's pastimes besides her time-consuming work in Lord Ascot's company. But where else should she get decent clothes from, fit for long journeys through foreign countries where the weather was so hot and the air so moist it made you sweat even to just _think_ of those frilly, overloaded dresses that a young woman of good family was expected to wear? Moreover, how could one resist dreaming of new creations when the rich brocade from China, the butterfly-light silk from India ran through one's hands, still smelling of tea and spices after the long voyage in the storeroom of the ship. Maybe she would be able to sell some of her creations in that new store she wanted to open in the south of London. That was, if this idea of hers would be approved by Lord Ascot and his partners. But until then she could use this time to start writing a book about her travels... New things, new ideas, new horizons. She would not let herself be confined to one profession only! There was nothing she couldn't do. Sometimes she felt as if there were life enough in her for two of her kind, and maybe this was what made it possible for her to pursue so many ideas simultaneously. Although she hadn't tried out flying by now...

Whatever. Alice whirled round, calmed her thoughts. She was going to be home for three months only, her family had been waiting so patiently, they deserved a little attention at last. Her mother hadn't even made the tiniest remark on her only ankle-long skirt. Astonishing! Whatever there still was left to be finished for work, it would have to wait, at least until after tea, and with this thought Alice hurried downstairs to finally join her family. Everyone had been excited to see her again when she had returned after almost a full year of travelling, she wouldn't want to disappoint them, so she armed herself with her most charming smile before she entered the drawing room.

"I'm sorry I'm late again. There's still so much to do..." she excused herself.

"Dear Alice, always busy!" Margaret approached her, beaming with joy to see her sister again. "I thought you'd find some rest while you're here! Lord Ascot said the passage was exceptionally strenuous due to unfavourable weather."

"It was, truly," Alice admitted. "But you know, dreams don't come true all by themselves!" She smiled back and embraced her sister, then shook her brother-in-law's hand with a firm grip. "Everything in order, I guess?" Only she and Lowell knew what Alice was alluding to. He gave a short nod and an awkward smile.

"As always. You needn't have asked."

"Just to be sure..." Alice muttered, then turned to her sister again. "I'm truly happy that you two are still enjoying so much bliss!"

"And what about me, Miss Kingsley?" Another voice joined into the conversation. A man's voice. Alice smiled. The only man in all England who had managed not to get on her nerves by now!

"Mr Thornton, you know it always is my greatest pleasure to meet you!" She turned round to a dashing young man, allowed him to breathe a welcoming kiss onto the back of her outstretched hand and was rewarded with a flashing smile.

"A lady's manners – I'm deeply astonished! I really thought you would vigorously shake my hand, as you are accustomed to!" He was teasing her good-naturedly, as always. And this, together with his forebearing with her vivid imagination, was what let Alice cherish his presence.

"I am truly sorry to disappoint you," she teased back.

"I'm used to that," came the prompt retort, defused by another charming smile. "How was China? Has it changed compared to the last time you went there?"

Helen Kingsley sighed an inaudible sigh behind Alice's back and thanked the benevolent twist of fate that had sent Mr Philip Thornton to Lord Ascot's company two years ago. The first man ever to get along with her temperamental, if not to say eccentric, younger daughter. Maybe there was hope after all for Alice to find a husband! She was almost twenty-four, after all! Mrs Kingsley gestured to Margaret and Lowell to postpone any unnecessary questions, then ordered tea to be kept hot and not served until the conversation between her daughter and her hopefully-son-in-law had come to an uninterrupted end.

At last they sat around the teatable in merry conversation, Alice giving a detailed account of her journey to China – the second one already – and her adventures there, while everyone else listened admiringly, every now and then interposing her account by curious questions.

"Truly, you _must_ recount all this at the party at the Ascot estate next week!"

Alice started at Margaret's remark, spilling the better part of her tea over her skirt.

"The what?" she gasped and instinctively spun round to give her mother a frantic stare.

"It was not my idea!" assured Helen Kingsley. "Not this time. It was Lord Ascot who insisted on celebrating your birthday in a grand style. Oh, look what you've done, you've ruined your dress..." She switched to making a lot of ado about her daughter's drenched skirts, rubbing them with a napkin. "Mr Thornton, be so kind and fetch us a towel... Or maybe you better go and change, love."

"Please, don't make such a fuss, mother," Alice murmured, trying to collect her thoughts. "It's just tea, after all."

"Forgive us the ill timing, Miss Kingsley," Philip Thornton elegantly tried to remedy the situation. "We all agreed on telling you beforehand, as we know that you are averse to surprise parties. I admit, I am actually not to tell you, but Lord Ascot has planned to make you a very special birthday present on this occasion. You will very much like it, Alice, trust me..."

Alice met his intent hazel stare. It was somehow soothing and instantly calmed her.

"Tell me what it is, and I will come," she bargained with low voice.

Thornton hesitated for a moment, then smiled brightly, his eyes twinkling.

"Well, this I myself don't know exactly. He only mentioned that it had gotten time for you to be more than just his apprentice in the company..." He could tell by the flashing of Alice's eyes that she would gladly join her birthday party.

7


	3. A Well Deserved Holiday

**Chapter 2 – A Well-deserved Holiday**

The party wasn't _that_ bad, after all. By far not as bad as the last party Alice had attended at Ascot manor. She grimaced when she remembered that , truth to be told, there had also been a few good aspects to that unsuccessful engagement party – unfortunately she could remember only the not-so-nice ones right now. This one, her birthday party, was definitely far more enjoyable. After all her achievements to the company's benefit, Alice was now looked upon not as an ill-bred, fanciful child anymore, but as a young woman of quality. At least by most people.

Nevertheless she was glad to steal away for a few moments, just to give her mind some time to relax after all the cultivated conversation she was forced to make. The garden had not changed much since she had last been here, only the white roses had been exchanged for red ones. Surely on Lady Ascot's instigation. Incorrigible woman. Alice frowned, then turned another way to avoid the sight of a certain gazebo. Thankfully Hamish had married the previous year and had the consideration not to turn up at this party.

"Deep in thoughts?"

Alice started and looked up. Philip Thornton emerged from behind a bush, with bright smile and flawless appearance, as always. That was, if one counted the twig in his hair as an adornment rather than as an oversight. Alice swallowed hard to suppress a giggle.

"I hope I'm not interrupting."

"Not at all," she hurried to assure, although it was not entirely the truth.

"Mind if I accompany you, Miss Kingsley?" His outstretched arm signalised that he was very sure of her approval to this offer.

"Wouldn't this be a bit too unseemly, even for someone with my reputation of an unconventional thinker?"

"It would, for sure, if I hadn't asked for your mother's permission first. Which she granted me."

Alice grinned mischievously, then took Thornton's arm and they walked along the meandering path between walls of rhododendron.

"Well, in this case... Although I really cannot fathom what she expects from this."

"Neither can I, upon my word, Miss Kingsley." he chuckled. "So, what flights of fancy were you indulging in before I so rudely woke you from your dreaming?"

"Nothing special... Maybe another idea for the company's future, maybe just quirky thoughts about the roses. I wonder if Lady Ascot had them indeed painted, as I once suggested, or if she had the gardeners plant new ones. And if the white roses did complain a lot when they were pulled out. If I were a rose, I definitely would complain if anyone dared touch me. I would drive the gardeners to desperation!" Alice laughed a hearty laugh.

"A very understandable reaction." His amusement was genuine at least to the largest part, which Alice gave him great credit for.

"And what is your excuse for eluding the pleasures of this party?"

"Nothing special," Thornton answered with a casual air, mustering the leafy surroundings. "Just the fact that a party is only as nice as its most esteemed guest. Who, unfortunately, chose to take a holiday from her very own, special holiday."

Alice felt herself blush a little under his gaze when he turned to her.

"So this is why you followed me."

He had been too fast. Every inch of her told him so.

"It is, and yet it is not. I wanted to be the first one to give you a birthday present."

"Now what would that be?" She half expected this to turn into an unwelcome proposal again, so she remained rather cool towards the young man. She would have a crow to pluck with her mother. And with Margaret. It could only be their machination! Yet the parcel Thornton produced and placed in her hand was too large to contain just a ring. Alice relaxed.

"My best wishes for your birthday, Miss Kingsley. Or, if you allow, Alice."

"Thank you so much – Philip." She unwrapped the gift and found it to be a book. 'As you like it', she read out aloud.

"For you clearly are a woman who wants to have things her way, and no other. So I say, 'as _you_ like it', Alice."

"That is – so thoughtful of you!" She chuckled. "You're the first one to get the gist of me!"

"Glad you like it." He took her hand to kiss it. "Just to reward myself for my thoughtfulness. I'll return and tell them you will be back in a short time. Go ahead, read a bit, it will clear your head for the well-wishing that's still to come!" And gone he was, leaving Alice alone. And a little surprised. And a little regretful. He _was_ very nice, and no mistake about it! Could it be that at last, finally, she had found someone she could fully trust? She felt her heart leap a tiny leap at this thought, and a warm feeling welled up in her stomach. A very new feeling. But a feeling she had already felt before, at one time. Pensive, but with a slight smile on her face, she strolled along the path until she came to an old tree she found fit to shade her whilst she would read. Sitting down under it – that was, on the side where the ground was flat and grassy and did not form the gaping entrance to some rabbit family's residence –, she opened the book at a random page. She liked Shakespeare. He was one of the more entertaining writers, always witty and amusing.

Indeed the reading was quite relaxing to her mind, the verses of the play weaving an intricate pattern. The sentence 'love is merely a madness' caught her eye and made her smile. If love really was merely a madness, maybe she could allow herself to fall in love, after all she was mad already, and if being in love felt only half as good as being a little out of her mind... She flipped the book shut, leaned back against the tree and closed her eyes.

"Love is merely a madness," she muttered. "Why not – having butterflies in the stomach surely is just as good as having bats in the belfry! The London Zoo will be nothing compared to my menagerie!" The image made her laugh. She thought of Philip Thornton, remembered how close he had stood, how softly he had spoken to her, remembered the longing gaze of his bright green eyes... Her own eyes snapped open. Nonsense! He had brown eyes! Where was her head! She really ought to go back to the party. Arising and picking up the book was done in one graceful motion. Only the rest of said motion was less graceful, for she could have sworn that one large root of the tree tripped her up purposely so she lost her balance and fell backwards.


	4. M' Like 'Memories'

**Chapter 3 – 'M' Like 'Memories'**

She fell. Deeper and deeper, through an endless tunnel of warm air. The cry she had emitted on feeling herself lose balance drifted only a few feet behind her, trying to keep up with her, but it was considerably lighter than Alice, so she soon lost it. Maybe it would stay here, floating among all the curious things that populated the space she was falling through...

Instinctively Alice eluded a pianoforte that was catching up on her uncomfortably closely, fell around a bookshelf and accompanied it for some time. What an odd experience it must be, she thought, for someone else to fall down here and pass a frantic squeal out of the blue, not even knowing that it was _her _squeal! And that there actually was nothing to be afraid of. She had often fallen in her dreams, although she had to admit that she was unable to remember where and how she was going to land. Now if she only could fly, that would indeed be most helpful. She turned her head and reached out for one of the books on the shelf. Maybe it contained some advice!

Alas, it did not, for it was a treatise on the processing of bluecumbers which, so Alice learned, did not only make a magnificent snack in the form of bluecumber-sandwiches (especially delicious with a dollop of cheese-and-crumberry-sauce) once they had been deseeded, but were also an essential ingredient for making flubbish-stew and, if the bluecumbers were already bletted, bath-sponges. Whatever one had to do with the other. The appendix held over a dozen recipes how to get bluecumber-stains out of napkins and tablecloths. Truly compelling reading matter. Alice put the book on some other shelf floating by (the first one had gotten caught in a cluster of chairs), looked about her, then suddenly felt a cooler whiff of air, was whirled round and hit something smooth and hard.

After a moment, Alice picked herself up from the black and white tiled floor and got into a vertical stance again. Gravity – what a blessing. She sneered. To think that just days ago she had mused on how it would be to fly! Flying seemingly was quite easy, she just needed to improve her landing skills. But she seemed still sound and finally looked around herself, wondering at what she saw.

A glass table. This was all that furnished the circular room. How very queer. Wherefore whould one build a room the walls of which consisted mostly of locked doors – for locked they were, and Alice tried each of them, twice at least – and which held nothing but a single table? With a small bottle on it. And a key. Well, she must get out of here one way or the other, so at least the key would be helpful. Alice picked it up. It was tiny. It would not fit any of these large doors, this was for sure. A smaller door, maybe just shoulder-high, like the one that led into the coal cellar in her family's house... She turned round, sternly mustered each single door. All were the usual size. Unless there was one hidden behind this curtain, yes, that it must be! She pulled the velvety fabric aside to discover she had been right. Well, half right, actually. The door was knee-high. She crouched down and put the key in the lock. Of course it fitted.

"Why, I'm not a cat to fit through this cat flap of a door!"

It sounded strange to hear her voice re-echo from the high, domed ceiling. Everything here was strange! All of a sudden it appeared to her that indeed she must be dreaming again. Of course, this it must be! But how very strange, she hadn't had any weird dreams for – how long? Years, for sure. Ever since she had started working in Lord Ascots trading company, her mind had been far too busy for dreaming, unless those dreams were daydreams related to new aims for the company, to new horizons she wanted to reach, to new ideas she could advance. Except for scarce, faint glimpses of colours, voices, faces, hardly remembered once she woke from deep sleep.

Anyway. There must be memories hidden somewhere in her mind. She held the key. Yes, literally indeed, but the key to use the key... It was getting silly. Alice closed her eyes. She had been here before, she just needed to remember. Methodically she mustered her mind, mused on merry memories of mornings spent on misty mounts, meditated on melancholic melodies, on mops and mocking birds and minarets of marble and on many more miracles. What a mazy muchness of memory. Muchness? Fiddlesticks! Dazzled, Alice shook her head. Think, girl, she scolded herself, clearing the mess in her head. She had landed here. Again. Therefore, she must have gotten out of here some way or the other the last time, or she couldn't be here _again_ but would be here _still_. Therefore, in turn, there must be a way out. Through this door. Even dreams had to work on logics! At least on her own logics, as this was her dream.

The room contained a table, a key and a bottle. The bottle was labelled 'Drink Me'. Well, there was the key to the key! Without any further thought, Alice uncorked the little flask and choked down a large draught of the honey-coloured liquid it held. It tasted breathtakingly awful. They really ought to add some sugar to this ghastly pishsalver, she must tell whoever was in charge of brewing this stuff! Before she could wonder at this thought, she noticed the ceiling soar up and the floor advance rapidly, while the little key in her hand grew larger and heavier. Instinctively she held on tight to it. Do not lose the key. Do not be late for tea. Had she just made a rhyme? Do not turn your back on the March Hare unless you want to experience the feeling of some random object ending its flight path on the back of your head...

Finally Alice stopped shrinking. Thankfully. Otherwise she would have drowned in the ruches of her dress, which she now left through its right armhole. Unfortunately also leaving her underwear behind. She really could have thought of this! But she hadn't had this problem before, had she? And the key hadn't been just _so_ large before, it now reached up to her waist. Maybe _before_, she hadn't taken such a large sip of pishsalver. Or maybe it had become stronger over time. Did pishsalver get stronger with age? How long had this bottle been waiting for her? And waiting for her it must have been, for she had promised to return... Yet there was no use in pondering right now, she was small enough to fit through the door – although, a tad bit taller wouldn't be wrong either –, all she needed was a garment to fit her tiny size. After a moment's hesitation, she plunged back into her dress and sought her way to her skirt pocket from which she produced her handkerchief. This she wrapped around her body like a Greek dress and secured it with the slender satin ribbon that had adorned the lace on her underdress. Apparelled like this, Alice dragged the key to the door, heaved it up, turned it with a little effort and finally entered Underland again. Half a fraction of a second before the door snapped shut again, she remembered that she had forgotten to take a morsel of upelkuchen with her. Shukrn.


	5. The Impossibility Of Dreams

**Sheesh, this story is seriously disadvantageous for my sleeping habits! Therefore, if you find any mistakes (and you _will_), keep them ;) I'll weed them out tomorrow.  
**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 4 – The Impossibility Of Dreams**

It was never good to be around when the Hatter had one of his outbursts of fury, unleashing his Outlandish temper, ranting and raving until someone had the politeness to either throw something at him, shout at him or do anything else that made a perceptible impression on his body or mind to bring him back to normality. Moreover had said outbursts become decidedly more numerous ever since Alice had left. One would have to be a complete moron _not_ to be able to draw this conclusion. Although a forceful outburst of temper was still to be preferred to the other extreme, his occasional fits of utter hebetude, when he slouched in his armchair and kept staring into space for hours on end, from time to time muttering incoherent words, be they about Alice and her leaving or, still worse, about Horunvendush Day and the grave loss he had suffered back then. Getting him out of this state was even more difficult, for melancholy seemed to weigh heavier and cling more tightly than ire. Chessure had even succeeded in kidnapping his hat one of those times, had floated over the teatable with it, right before Tarrant's nose. He hadn't cared a bit. With a comparatively small grin the cat had quickly restored the hat. It was no fun stealing a hat when its owner took no notice. More than that, it was a very startling sight, the Hatter without his favoured hat and without his usual vigour, his normally bright green, vivid eyes overshadowed and turned far away to somewhere his friends could not follow him. 'Hatter, your tea's getting cold!' one would say, reminding him of his untouched cup of morning tea, or afternoon tea, or in-between-tea tea. He would just answer with a polite 'thank you' – or even not at all – and dutifully drain the cup (not a nice thing to witness if one knew the taste of cold, stale tea of whatever sort) only to return to his pensiveness until it wore off on its own after some time.

Mallymkun knew very well which of Tarrant's conditions she would momentarily prefer: clearly the quiet one. It would allow her to sleep late. She pulled the blanket over her head. Ooooh, but no true friend would wish another friend such dreary reveries, her conscience piped up. Reliable conscience, worked much more precisely than the Hatter's watch, even without butter. Something burst against the wall not far from her.

"Tarrant!!!" Mallymkun's squeak sounded muffled from inside the teapot. "Tarrant!" she shouted again when she had lifted the lid. "Would – you – stop – that! I can hardly sleep, and look, the sun isn't even half up!" She climbed out of the pot onto the tabletop, her hand groped for the sugar cubes she had already piled up for exactly such cases – but she felt only the ground of the empty cup. All gone again! Yes, Tarrant's outbursts clearly had become more numerous.

The effect of the Dormouse's shouting was next to nothing. At least she needed not duck when things sailed through the air, as it was rather unlikely that they would hit exactly her small self. The Hatter seemed even madder than usual.

"Boggin, scaffy cowp, nah use fer all tha' bloody scrum, cluttering up me life, hemming, cramming, choking, strangling..." He seemed to have evolved a strong dislike for his surroundings, for half the room that served as his workshop in the White Queen's castle lay in a complete tangle of shards, cloth, hats and smaller furniture, garnished with lengths of braid and ribbon. "Naught fer usal, sittin' in a' day, brooding, poring... None ter come back, none ter change..." He had to stop to breathe.

"May I interrupt at this point?" chirped a sweet voice from the door. Strangely this soft sound was enough to snap the Hatter out of his rant. He whirled round, eyes still red but slowly fading back to green, hair wild and messy, hat askew.

"M'lady... Forgiveness!" he choked, cleared his throat and blushed slightly.

"I let myself in, as you apparently did not hear my knocking, but I fear I'm coming at a slightly inopportune moment." Queen Mirana's charming smile wavered for an instant when she observed the chaos but quickly froze back in place.

"Not at all, milady, I was just about to – clean up!"

The Hatter halfheartedly picked up a nearly-finished bowler and a few yards of satin, not knowing exactly what to do with it. He sought refuge in an excusing grin.

"Nevermind. I will come when it is more convenient!" And out she was again. Queen Mirana knew when radiant happiness was out of place.

"You're as mad as a march hare!" the dormouse scolded as soon as the door had closed.

"I am not," stated the Hatter with almost recovered dignity and put his tophat straight again. "I'm only as mad as a hatter. Which is how it should be, as I am one, after all."

"Mad as a march hare, I say!" Mallymkun repeated sternly, held up one end of a tangled piece of ribbon and dropped it again. Naught for usal, in this the Hatter had been right. She heard him slump into a chair. Good, there would be peace and quiet again for the rest of the morning!

"I dreamed about her." His voice was small, thin.

The dormouse could not but stay and turn, tempting as the thought of her warm bed might be.

"Alice?" What a question, who else?

"I dreamed about her, and when I woke, she was not there. And she will never be there. She won't return." His words sounded so flaccid, one could have hung them over a line like wet clothes.

"Twaddle! She told you she'd be back!"

"She'll have forgotten."

"Even Queen Mirana says that Alice will return one day."

"One day. One day..." His eyes glowed in a dangerous yellow. "And when will this one day come? Will I be waitin' fer one day tha's never te' come? I am fed up with waitin' fer people who will never return, all o' them gone, ashes in the wind, grass on their graves..."

"Stop it!"

A sharp prick in his shoulder reminded the Hatter of reality. Mallymkun had finally given up all hopes for continuing her sleep and had climbed up on his shoulder to use her hat-pin sword as a remedy for her friend's ravings.

"Thank you." A gulp. A sigh.

"You cannot forget her, right? Not even for the sake of your own good."

"It's not that I haven't tried..."

Blank lie. Trying to forget Alice - now _that_ would be blank nonsense! Of course he hadn't tried to forget her. Every year when the anniversary of Gribling Day four years ago neared, the Hatter found himself in brighter spirits, convened a teaparty and merrily waited for something wonderful to happen. The day following this annual event always was the blackest of days because, unsurprisingly, nothing, absolutely nothing happened. No wonders, no surprises – no Alice. And nothing to do about it. Waiting. Thinking. Hatting. The latter did help a bit, but not too much. When the Jabberwocky had wiped out his clan and the Bloody Big Head had started her terrible reign, there had still been the Resistance to distract him from his pain, the thought of and hope for revenge, the spying, the planning, the conspiring, the feeling that he had something very important to do. Granted, ever since Horunvendush Day he had been a tad bit more off his rocker than he had been before, rants and flashing of eyes and whatnot. But who would blame him for that? Now that revenge was taken and Underland was floating in bliss and happiness again, what was there left? Not much to distract him from thinking of hazel brown eyes, of golden hair. The pain he had felt at Alice's vanishing before his very eyes had blunted over the years, but anyone who had ever held a sword in his hands knew that a blunt weapon could still do just as much damage as a sharp one.

Mallymkun watched her friend closely. She didn't like what she saw. Not at all. He truly cut a heartrending figure as he sat there, sombre and brooding, his usual brightness seemed to have vanished from his hair, from his skin, even from his clothes; he looked – well, faded, so to say. As if the colour of his appearance had changed to duller shades, only the shadows around his eyes had intensified to a darker blueish and violetish, standing in marked contrast with his pale skin and enforcing the impression of something being wrong.

"I'll get you a cup of tea."

Tarrant watched the dormouse as she sped out of the room. It was good to have friends at least.


	6. Back To Underland

**Chapter 5 – Back To Underland**

A large garden stretched in front of the door that seemingly led into nowhere when Alice turned round. To be honest to herself, she had half expected this, for she could dimly remember that there had been a garden in her dreams. A garden and a bunch of weird fellows. Only now there was no one around, weird or not. Only flowers, and a path between the flowerbeds, covered with uncomfortably rough gravel. Nothing one would want to tread on barefooted, so Alice chose to walk closely along the flowerbeds where the earth was softer, although she had to deal with shrubbery every now and then. That is to say, with occasional, head-high tufts of grass and the one or other drooping stem or leaf. But at least they gave her cover from the threatening, oversized animals that inhabited the air. Not just once did she duck behind a leaf when one of them whirred close. One species seemed particularly threatening, appearing like a miniature version of a dragon. Miniature only if you were the right size, of course. She had just ducked again – better safe than sure – when she heard an uppish voice from somewhere above her head.

"Would you _please_ find the kindness to step off my leaf! What a thoughtless insult!"

Alice instinctively hopped aside and was rewarded by a dry 'Thank you ever _so_ much'. The said leaf was lifted and gently flapped, like one would wave his hand he had squeezed accidentally. She followed the move with her eyes and found herself opposite a rose. A rose with a face. Strangely it did not really astonish her.

"My apologies," she muttered, for lack of anything witty.

"Accepted," the flower replied. "Who are you, anyway?" she asked with a frown.

"I am Alice."

"_The_ Alice?"

"Are there so many more?"

"Don't you get rude!" The rose sounded decidedly indignant.

Alice sighed.

"Yes, _the_ Alice. I've been here before, this is _my_ dream." Now that should clarify everything. "Pleased to meet you – again," she added to calm the waves.

"That sounds better. Pleased to meet you," the rose answered and curtsied – or rather, nodded, for how should she curtsy properly with only one stem to stand on. "Good to see that you remember much more quickly than the last time, Alice! Although I must say I myself remember you a little, um, mucher; that is, you know –" she lowered her voice a little and bent down, "you do seem a little shorter, no offense intended. Just between ourselves, have you been pruned?"

"None taken. It happens that I am smaller than last time, the pishsalver was stronger." Alice choked down a chuckle at the assumption she had been pruned.

"Oh dear, poor you," the flower pitied her. "Liquid fertiliser can be so unpredictable..."

There was nothing to be added to this nonsensical conversation, so Alice decided to change the topic, even if this might let her appear rude again.

"Could you tell me where this path leads to?"

"Where this path leads to?" the rose echoed, sounding rather uncomprehending. "Why – where you need to go, of course! What a question. Of what use would a path be if it didn't lead you where you want to go? Although if I were your size I wouldn't worry about whereto it leads, but how long it might take me to get where it leads to! Still no offense intended."

"Still none taken." Alice thought for a moment. "You do not know, by chance, anythi-, um, any_one_ I could ride on?" She dimly remembered riding on some plump animal, very much to the dissatisfaction of her behind. "You know, maybe it wouldn't be so clever to be out alone in the dark at my size."

The rose giggled.

"That's what I call a serious problem, indeed!"

"Now it's you who's being rude." Alice's stern voice stopped the giggle, and to her great surprise she saw the flower blush to a darker shade of red.

"That's just your bad example..." She harrumphed and wiggled her leaves a bit, then recovered her dignity. "Well, you _could_ wait for some of the rocking-horse-flies. They would be more willing to carry you than a snap-dragon-fly, I suppose..."

For a moment, Alice couldn't make up her mind whether to frown or to just doubtfully raise an eyebrow. But what choice had she? And so she spent the next half an hour trying to bring one of the rocking-horse-flies to let her mount it. To no avail.

"Weren't there a lot more than just you?" Alice asked the rose while she was resting on a piece of wood after her unsuccessful attempts to literally get a ride.

"Silly thing, of course there still are, just look about you. It merely happened that you trod on _my_ leaf and woke _me_ from my afternoon nap. These are flower_beds_, after all, so one could expect the flowers to hold a beauty rest every now and then. Which, in my case, was roughly interrupted. Oh dear, I can already feel my petals wrinkling!" The rose's voice turned whiny.

"Nothing is wrinkling, you are a rose in full bloom and splendour, and I can consider myself fortunate that I got the chance to admire you!"

"Oh, you're just flattering me..." The rose blushed again. Nevertheless Alice's hammed-up compliment seemed to have done the trick and won the flower over, she suddenly seemed much more willing to help. "Let me think. Those little fellows – no offense meant! – usually feed on sap and sawdust, but they are also attracted by sweeter things than sap..."

"Honey, for example?"

"Er, yes, for example..." The topic seemed to get inconvenient, the rose appeared to feel a little awkward.

"So I should try to find some bees..." Alice looked around.

"B's? What should we do with A's or B's or even C's? You are clearly out of your wits, my dear. We need honey, not an alphabet."

"But isn't honey made by bees? I mean, even here?" It occurred to Alice that things definitely worked in a different way.

"I can't believe it..." the rose sighed dramatically. "Turn around, then I'll give you your honey and you let me go back to sleep again. I already feel a flower-headache approaching... Now shoo, turn round, impudent thing!"

"Why should I turn round?" Alice understood close to nothing. She was sure that problems like this had not arisen during her previous stays.

"Why you should –" The rose gasped. "Well, how would _you_ like it if someone watched _you_ when you're emitting your honey? No sense for decency, those cheeky young sprouts..."

Alice wordlessly crossed her arms and turned her back on the flower, only her face spoke volumes. After a few moments a tendril tapped on her shoulder and a little leaf-wrapped package was placed in her upheld hand.

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it. And now fairfarren, and quickly! You have already wasted enough of my precious time."

Alice left the rose without a further glance back. She must be at least half-mad to think up such nonsense as this! Actually she sould pinch herself and wake up again. But maybe – not. Not yet. Maybe there was still something waiting for her here, and this she wouldn't want to miss. Maybe this time she would succeed in taming one of those flies! She had already tamed larger beasts – even if their names escaped her at the moment. Abovehead, she could hear the sound of wings from time to time and finally plucked up enough courage to position herself on a flat piece of lawn where indeed she soon succeeded in luring a rocking-horse-fly closer, mounted it while it was delightedly licking the pile of rose-honey and clung tightly to its mane when it flew-rocked off with her on its back, a little upset to find a passenger on its painted-on saddle. But after some struggling it even allowed Alice to approximately guide it into a random direction. Which direction exactly did not matter anyway, as she had not the foggiest notion where to turn to.


	7. Curiouser And Curiouser

**I apologise for being late with this chapter! But first, my creativity took a few days off. Then I succeeded in getting it back by means of watching the movie for the third time. And four hours later I managed to lose it again due to an overdose of AiW-research. D'oh! And then I noticed that the plot had gone overboard (what plot, it has no plot so far - not _yet_), and now I'm trying to set up a decent plot, keep the madness flowing and ensure that the rest of the chapters comes up to your expectations. Juggling with raw eggs is comparatively easy... :D**

**And maaany thanks for the wonderful reviews!!!**

* * *

**Chapter 6 – Curiouser And Curiouser**

They made good progress, rock-flying from leaf to leaf, and it could even be called a convenient way of travelling, once one had gotten used to it. At first it made Alice feel slightly seasick, but this feeling vanished quickly, she had spent enough time on ships during the past few years. Slowly the landscape changed, the garden turned into a scenery of meadowy, softly rolling hills strewn with occasional coppices which merged to a light wood after some time.

"I wonder where you are taking me..."

The rocking-horse-fly made a tiny, whinny-like sound, then steered towards a puddle on the path that wound deeper into the wood and landed to quench its thirst. Alice looked round her, then glided off her mount. The path was even and not too much overgrown, she could risk stretching her legs without having to fear getting lost in the tangle of rough grass and undergrowth. Thoughtfully she looked around. If the paths here really led you where you wanted to go, she ought to make up her mind where she wanted to end up.

"I have been here before, it all feels so strangely familiar. A familiar dream. I wonder if I have any friends I could visit..."

She was rudely interrupted in her thoughts when suddenly the undergrowth to her left rustled. The rocking-horse-fly by her side grew impatient, rocked frantically and fled only a hair's breadth before Alice could catch hold of its mane, leaving her to face a stampede of oversized green pigs that suddenly broke from the bushes, crossed the path and vanished into the undergrowth on the other side. Only moments later everything was calm again. After a few seconds of startled disbelief, Alice did the only thing that was left to her: she went on. No use in wailing the loss of her mount, she was not inclined to spend the night in a wood full of strange animals. The path would lead her to a friend, if she only believed in this firmly enough. It was _her_ dream, after all. And after some time of lonesome wondering and wandering it really did.

"Now, if this is not an Alice..."

A smooth, sleek voice came from somewhere above, or was it from somewhere behind her?

"And it is not only _an_ Alice, it is _the_ Alice!"

Beside her?

"Welcome..."

No, above.

"...back..."

Clearly beside.

"...Alice!"

She jumped almost two inches back when a blue-greyish cat's head materialised right in front of her. A rather good jump, considering that she currently measured only little over five inches.

"Did I frighten you?" An innocent grin spread over the cat's face as it turned upside down, then floated a little backwards to make space for the rest of the body to appear out of nothing in a bluish smoke, sprawled out in mid-air like a lazy cat waiting for someone to ruffle its belly. "I very much apologise. I'm completely harmless, you know!" The words were affirmed by a purrrrrrr.

"I was just a little... surprised. Where I come from, cats usually don't appear out of the blue."

"What a boring place, my dear. Glad you found your way back! Where are you going this time, anyways? If I might ask. Any particular plans already?"

Alice turned around in a full circle to keep eye contact with the cat who was floating around her.

"Not – really –" It was slightly bewildering. But not too far from normal either. That was, if one redefined 'normal'.

"Then you will surely not decline a short walk. You look a little stranded. Maybe you can think of what you want to do while we're, well, _walking_." The cat mockingly made walking moves in the air.

"To be honest, I don't have any commitments anyway..."

There was no point in declining the offer. At least she had found someone to show her the way – although a floating, grinning cat that vanished every now and again just to pop up somewhere else was definitely not what she had been waiting for. Nevertheless, it did not feel completely unfamiliar, the floating and evaporating, that was.

"I saw green pigs in the wood," Alice rather directly started a conversation. After all she had at last found someone to answer her questions about this strange dreamland. "I've never seen any of this colour before!"

"Well, what other colour should they have?" purred the cat, lazily zig-zagging along the way. "They're wild boars, of course they are green, they live in the woods, after all. What colour would you have expected them to be?"

Of course. What else could have been the answer? Her adventure was truly getting weirder and weirder.

Oh dear, it couldn't possibly be true that Alice had forgotten _again_? What did those human beings use their head for? Besides the fact that she didn't even use it for wearing a hat. Which led to the interesting question: did Alice still remember... the Hatter? Chessur's grin widened. If not – oh, he just loved a well-prepared surprise! The day had started quite dull, but it was gradually getting more and more interesting...

"This way!" The cat drifted into a little side-path Alice would have overlooked, for it did not look well-used.

"Where are we going?" Seemingly the path had led her to a friend when she had been walking it alone, but what now?

"Out of Tulgey Wood. I do have an approximate idea where you might want to go."

"Would you mind telling me?"

"To be honest – yes!" The cat turned in mid-air, floating backwards, and smiled gleefully, then had the decency to change it to an apologetic smile. "At least for the time being. But of course I'm open to your suggestions. Any favourite destinations?"

Alice silenced and frowned. If she only knew, remembered, where she could go!

"Maybe we could go meet some friends of mine!" It seemed an inconspicious plan.

"That was the plan, my dear Alice. You wouldn't think ill of me, would you? That would really rock my world, put everything upside down..." A broadly smiling cat face emphasised these words by slowly turning upside down in front of Alice, still gently floating to keep up with her, then returned to a normal position. If any position of a bodyless, hovering cat's face could be called normal. The smile widened still a bit more, round, green, incredibly large green eyes blinked at Alice with exactly the same innocent look like a little kitten's when it was begging for more milk. "You _know_ me, Alice; you _know_ that I'm a nice kitty-cat..."

Alice couldn't help it at last, she had to laugh out aloud.

"Alright, I believe you. You're the nicest, politest and most innocent feline I have ever met!"

At last they passed the last line of trees and came out into open country again, with lovely, farstretched meadows and the faint sound of the sea. Occasional dead trees, very much in contrast to the vibrant verdancy, added to the picturesqueness of the landscape. Although, granted, there were exceptionally many _occasional_ dead trees...

"What is this? It looks strange..." Alice looked aside with interest when she found themselves wandering along a large paved field, tiled in light and dark chequers like a giant chessboard.

The cat, lazily floating beside her – at a very slow pace, considering Alice's currently tiny figure and her therefore rather moderate speed, did not even deign to look to the side.

"Oh that... Nothing of importance. You'll remember, one day." Chessur elegantly evaporated, beginning with his tail and ending with his grin, and in reverse order reappeared right in front of Alice's face. "Maybe..."

"Do you play chess?" Alice asked while they moved on, giving the field another thoughtful glance. She knew this place, only it might have changed a bit...

"I don't _play_ Chess, I _am_ Chess – albeit 'Chessur' is still preferred, if you please." The cat's grin grew a few inches, almost touching his ears. "Though I'm by far not as averse to a nickname as Mallymkun. Or has she allowed you to call her Mally?" He did a somersault in a whisp of blueish smoke and vanished, reappearing after a moment. "Sorry, just feeling like it..." An apologetic grin.

"Mallymkun – who's she?" Alice found that the name did ring a bell – or many bells? – but she couldn't exactly match it with a face.

Chessur floated alongside the way, with one finger (did a cat's paw have fingers, after all?) lazily brushing over a row of bluebells. That's where the ringing of bells had come from!

"Oh, if I were you, I wouldn't tell her you had forgotten the bravest dormouse in all Underland," he purred, "that is, once she's awake." A grin and a blink of his large green eyes. "She's terribly proud of her bravery. That is, once she _is_ awake. Which is exactly the moment when you wish her to go to sleep again. Prattling little piece of fur..." Another innocent grin. Alice noticed with astonishment that without doubt there were differences between Chessur's various grins.

"Underland!" she suddenly exclaimed and stopped abruptly. "Then all this is no dream!" Her expression brightened. Of course, that was why everything here followed such queer logics, and it also was the reason why some things seemed familiar to her nonetheless, why she remembered bit by bit what she had once experienced here.


	8. To Marmoreal

**Chapter 7 – To Marmoreal**

"Please, don't tell me you had forgotten..." Chessur had vanished completely except for his grin hovering over Alice's shoulder. "We _told_ you you would forget. Pity..." His eyes appeared right above his grin, like two green orbs, blinking at her.

"I'm beginning to remember again..."

"Pray tell me when and where you will finish remembering, I would very much like to witness your conclusion. And – your face..." The grin broadened, now literally tickling the fuzzy hair at the base of the cat's ears while he was reappearing inch by inch.

"Could you bring me to her? To Mallymkun, I mean?" Meeting the dormouse she had once been friends with – she had been friends with Mallymkun, hadn't she? – would, at her current size, be quite convenient, to begin with.

"Of course..."

Alice gleed.

"...I could, if I knew where she's hiding. In some teapot, most probably. Awful lot of them in all Underland, you wouldn't want to check them all one by one." Another whiff of smoke, and Chessur appeared on the other side, floating belly-upwards through a field of white flowers and obviously enjoying it. Alice frowned. Teapot. Teaspoon. Teatray. Tea... -party!

"Can you get me to the teaparty, then?" Her patience was beginning to wear thin.

There was a slight wince in Chessur's sleek moves at the mentioning of 'teaparty' and he returned to Alice's side again, floating along the path like a grey cloud. Somehow the blue tinge had vanished a little from his fur, but he kept his grin up.

"This, on the other hand, is a rather rarely experienced happening nowadays, teaparty, that is. You missed the last one my a few weeks. Sorry to disappoint you..."

"But wasn't this where Mallymkun usually was to be found?"

"Indeed, indeed, but – let's say they've gone a bit out of fashion. Things change, don't they?" The faked grin recovered a little of its old genuineness. "Things change, and we tend to – forget..."

Alice rolled her eyes and marched on. Little use in talking to this wisp of a cat, even the rose had been more helpful!

"Though I _can_ get you to Bayard, if you fancy that. He's living just round the corner. Well, in a metaphorical sense of course. A corner right here in the open, all on its own, would be a little out of place."

Alice stopped short and turned round.

"Bayard? How are his pups?"

"Grown, almost..." Chessur curred. "Love hunting tails, not only their own. Very inconvenient unless you have evaporating skills. Although, if you don't have a tail, it won't bother you. Shall we go?"

Alice was excited to finally remember so many things. She had ridden on Bayard's back the last time she had been here. It had touched her that his pups had been held hostage by the enemy, but nevertheless he had been loyal to the White Queen.

"Or," she added with a sudden thought, "could you get me to the White Queen?"

"That, my dear, would take us far longer, unless you could evaporate like I. But I'm confident that Bayard will be more than willing to be your mount once again. Let's stick to the original plan, and we'll get to Marmoreal soon enough to shake a few nerves and upset the one or other mind." Chessur's ears moved back a bit to make way for his still broadening smile, then he floated on to lead the way.

"Why – will they be upset to see me?" Alice asked herself, knitting her brows in the attempt to find an answer. What had she done that her return would upset people? Asking the Chessur any more questions was currently impossible, for he suddenly seemed to be quite in a hurry, she had to switch to a quicker pace to keep up with the conveniently floating and occasionally evaporating animal. By the time they reached the dwelling of Bayard and his family she was not only out of breath, but had also figured out that she remembered Chessur, the dormouse, a rabbit – or were there two of them? –, Bayard with his family, the White Queen and some flying animal that had given her the creeps. And a silver sword. Had she wielded it?

"We're here!"

Chessur appeared right beside Alice. Most likely his way of being polite after he had seen the effect of him appearing right in front of her, jump and all that.

"Will he remember me? He's a bloodhound, after all, I don't want to be mistaken for prey..." Alice hesitated.

"Oh, silly girl..." Chessur dissolved into a purring giggle. "We do not forget as quickly as _you_, my dear..."

"I'm not a girl!"

"So sorry. Old habits..." He vanished with a grin and left Alice to the stormy welcome of five half-grown bloodhounds and their parents, who welcomed Alice less stormily but with equal enthusiasm.

"Alice! Such a pleasure to see you again! The champion has returned," Bayard greeted her while his wife shooed their offspring away. She had noticed that Alice didn't feel too comfortable with seven oversized dogs around her.

"It is good to see you again, Bayard – and that everyone's fine!" Alice quietly acknowledged being entitled 'champion'. Seemingly she _had_ wielded that sword. Why ever.

"Everyone here will be happy to see you back. Tell me, did you return for a purpose, or all of yourself? For I know of no orders from Queen Mirana, and of no predictions..."

"Predictions?" Alice wondered. Why should anyone predict her return? She wasn't _that_ important, after all. "Actually I tripped. And fell. And found myself in the garden, this size and without any memory of my last stay here." She smiled apologetically when she noticed the bloodhound's eyes grow larger with utter surprise.

"You don't remember that you slew the Jabberwock? That you freed Underland from the Red Queen's terrible reign? That you, the champion, had been chosen to wield the Vorpal Sword?" She could just as well have told him that the Red Queen had returned, it couldn't have upset the faithful dog more than her confession that all the heroic deeds, all the bravery she had shown, everything she had accomplished, had completely slipped her memory.

A terribly long moment of silence ensued. Alice stood speechless when she heard all those familiar names. Memories trickled down like light spring rain, reviving images in her mind that showed her things in vivid colours she would not have believed only hours ago. And yet she knew with dead certainty that there was not the slightest shadow of a doubt as to their absolute truth and reality.

"I do remember – now..." she slowly answered, eyes still focused on something only her mind could see. "How could I ever forget..."

Bayard seemed too surprised to add anything else but a muffled, sneeze-like sound.

"Chessur told me you could bring me to the White Queen," Alice asked when she had ordered her thoughts, looking up at the bloodhound. "Would you...?"

"'f course. Mount, and hold on tight." Bayard crouched down, waited until Alice had safely settled on his back, woofed a goodbye to his family and turned towards Marmoreal.


	9. A Safe Haven

**Late as always. Holidays are over, so it takes a little longer to finish chapters :P But the following two chapters are almost finished as well, and I think you'll like them! Hehe... :D And thank you all for the many wonderful reviews this story has already received! (Hey, I'm new here - 11 reviews IS many! *lol*)  
**

* * *

**Chapter 8 – A Safe Haven**

The white, pearly shimmering turrets of Castle Marmoreal came into sight when they reached the top of the last hill that separated them from their destination. And also in Alice's mind rose the image of her riding on a terribly uncomfortable because terribly bouncy animal and the castle coming into sight. To her relief, Bayard had proven to be a very convenient mount, even at the swift trot he had fallen into. He now stopped and glanced back at Alice.

"It is a lovely sight, isn't it?"

She nodded. And it truly felt good to see this place. It somehow gave her the feeling of returning somewhere she belonged, somewhere she felt at home.

"It is, Bayard. Let's go!"

All the way along the winding road that brought them closer to the castle, Alice felt she was approaching something – well, something nice, pleasant, wonderful. She suddenly remembered a starry night, the delightful scent of wisteria perfuming the air, tangled with the treestems and the white pillars of a marble terrace and suddenly longed to get on, to return to this place. At last they passed rows of blooming trees, leading them directly to the dazzling white marble archway that marked the entry to the queen's palace. Here Bayard slowed down, and Alice dared to losen her grip. The paths and courts were covered with white marble, either smoothly tiled or in the form of snow white pebbles, the air filled with the faint scent of flowers. A perfect idyll. The group of courtiers, all dressed in white, cream or soft silver, fitted the surroundings perfectly, most gracefully scuttling about the brightest figure among them – Queen Mirana of Marmoreal. Bayard caught their attention by a politely damped bark whereupon the whole trail of courtiers swivelled sideways into the direction of their surprise guests, with the queen leading the way, her beautiful face displaying knowing delight as she approached them.

"Milady, our champion has returned," announced Bayard, slightly bowing his head to the queen.

"How wonderful! Just as I knew she would. Welcome back, Alice!" She sank to one knee to be halfway on eye-level with her, her skirts billowing prettily around her like a blooming cherry flower. "It is a pleasure to see Underland's champion again. And what a beautiful dress you are wearing, that white lace sits so well on you!"

"Actually it is a handkerchief..." Alice silenced. The perfect way to start conversation with a queen! "I am equally happy to be here again and to visit my friends – albeit I wouldn't mind regaining my actual height so they don't step on me by accident." She chuckled. "It seems that every time I get to Underland, I'm either too small or too tall!"

"Oh, nevermind, we can set that straight in no time." The queen turned to one of her ladies in waiting and asked her to have a room prepared for their guest, then bid Alice and Bayard accompany her into the palace and gracefully drifted off, leading the way.

After their fast ride Alice enjoyed Bayard's now slower pace, took her time to enjoy the lovely surroundings, the blossoming trees, murmuring fountains and lovely flowers.

"Alice?"

She looked round when she heard a voice call her name.

"Alice!"

From one of the palace doors emerged a familiar shape, closely followed by another, both darting towards her and Bayard as fast as their short legs would carry their pudgy selves.

"Oh dear!" Alice exclaimed with a laugh. How could she forget the Tweedles? "Tweedledee, Tweedledum – such a pleasure to see you again!" she blithely greeted when they reached them. They stopped and blinked at her with visible surprise when the two noticed an apparent difference, then started a muttered conversation between each other.

"Wasn't she a bit..."

"I could swear she was, but..."

"Maybe it was just a different perspective?"

"No such, must have been a different season, the perspective was the same."

"Contrariwise, the season was the same, only..."

"It was the pishsalver," interrupted Alice, failing to suppress an amused smirk. She knew this could go on and on and on... "Too much of it, this time."

"Ah..." Understanding echoed from both.

Alice wanted to add some decent explanation for her unexpected visit, but Bayard moved on again – even in Underland it would be highly disrespectful to let a queen wait. Well, as long as it was not Bloody Big Head.

"Of course I would be delighted if you could stay," chirped Queen Mirana as they were walking along seemingly endless corridors, through countless hallways and traversed unending flights of rooms, needless to say one whiter than the other, "we all would. Oh, do say yes - at least until Frilwick Day!"

"That would be when?" asked Alice hesitantly. She did enjoy having returned to Underland (now that she remembered it), and no mistake about that, but nonetheless she knew she couldn't stay here forever, she would have to return sooner or later to meet her manifold obligations in her own world – and the sooner she returned, the easier it would be to find an explanation for disappearing from her own birthday party. She couldn't make promises here that she wouldn't be able to keep...

"Two days after Garwich Day."

She really could have expected an answer like this!

"I cannot stay too long, I fear, maybe a few days..." she answered tentatively. How long had she stayed last time? Two days? Three?

"Oh, as long as you please will be just fine. There is no Jabberwock to slay this time, no commitments, no prophecies, you can stay or go at leisure. Here we are!" Mirana opened a door and floated into the kitchen after she had waved the entourage to leave her and her guests alone.

"There we go..." Mirana strode around a large white kitchen table that was crammed with all kinds of jars, bowls, jugs, little cauldrons of polished copper and – well, _things_. Judging by her demeanour she was delighted to be brewing something again.

Alice carefully balanced onto Bayard's head, who heaved his front paws up, lay his head on the table between them and from there she conveniently descended onto the table top.

"Pray, take a seat, Alice. It won't take long..." The queen was already mixing ingredients from various jars. Alice hoped she would leave the lid of the jar full of eyeballs closed. It was no appetising thought to drink or eat something with _that _in it... Nonetheless she wandered about between the countless objects that queen Mirana's kitchen table was littered with, exploring with interest some of the odd things she found, and finally sat down on some kind of fruit that resembled a tangerine, watched the White Queen adding ingredient after ingredient to the potion, humming to herself and slightly spaced out as usual.

"This will have to do, my dear – no upelkuchen this time, Thackery managed to spoil the rest of the muleberries, said they had been too stubborn to come out of their box so he threw them, uh, somewhere..." She went on stirring the bubbling liquid with graceful moves, gaze turned somewhere to the white, arched ceiling.

"So Thackery is still here?" Alice asked to make some conversation, although the hare was not particularly _the_ person she wanted to see most.

"Oh, actually he is, but not today. He went hopping mad when one of the kitchen frogs beat him in a leaping duel and dashed off yesterday, mumbling something about the horrenduous manners of his assistants and a holiday and renovation of his house being overdue."

Alice listened with half an ear while the rest of her mind tried to figure out who _the_ person was. There was one, for sure. Colour, voice, laughter – she had not forgotten. Only this 'not forgotten', drifting somewhere at the back of her mind, was so terribly hard to grasp... Queen Mirana was airily prattling on while Alice was racking her brains, gazing into space, until she noticed that someone else must have entered the kitchen who the queen was now talking to, for – Underland or not – Alice couldn't quite figure out how they should have come from muleberries and mad hares to hats and mad...

Oh dear!! Looking up and almost falling off her might-be-a-tangerine was conveniently done simultaneously.


	10. Twice The Surprise

**And herewith I reward the endless patience of my esteemed readers... ;D Hope you like it!  
**

* * *

**Chapter 9 – Twice The Surprise**

"Hatter!" Alice squeaked and jumped to her feet, causing him to look up and around himself, searching for the source of the noise. He looked – different. A bit. Not quite as colourful as she remembered him (and remember him she did now, at last), by far not as airy as before and not at all as blithesome.

'_I'll be back before you even know it.' A sad smile._ '_You won't remember me.'_ Alice felt her blood rush to her face. She had taken a terribly long time to return; a truly impolitely long time. And forgotten – oh dear, how could she forget him even for a single moment! Him who had risked his life for her, had sacrificed himself to buy her time to get away so in the end she could fight the Jabberwock and free Underland from the Red Queen's unrightful reign; him who had lain in fetters in this very queen's dungeon, had endured torture to keep Alice's whereabouts a secret. He had never told her any details. She had never asked. But she well remembered her fear for him, her relief when he had returned in one piece although she had already thought him beheaded by the bloodthirsty queen. She remembered his braveness when they had fought side by side in the battle at Frabjous Day, his encouraging words – and his look of utter sadness when she had told him that she would return to her own world.

No, she had not forgotten him when she had returned to England. Not at once. She recalled again the terrrible days of doubtful worrying and thedreaded, tearful sleeplessness of the nights. Had she made the right decision? Shouldn't she have stayed? She couldn't tell how long this state had prevailed, couldn't tell when exactly there had come the day she had been able to find rest again. And when exactly her mind had begun to forget to gratefully spare her the tormenting hours between midnight and sunrise, when it had begun to bury all those wonderful memories in the backmost corner of her subconscious, piling layer after layer on it until even those bright, wondrously and wonderfully green eyes had faded...

"Alice!" His voice ended her reverie. At last Tarrant had spotted her tiny figure between the paraphernalia on the table, and a bright grin manifested on his face. "You're back! Again!" He looked perfectly beamish – any beamisher and he could compete with Chessur.

Alice couldn't help but grin back up at him when she saw that he was equally happy to see her. With pleasure did she notice the colour of Tarrant's jacket turn to a brighter shade, just like someone would flush with excitement.

"Oh, dear little Alice – you're tiny! Tinier still than the last time you came to Underland, but don't worry, it really suits you. Not that there was any size that _didn't _suit you. Although your original, right-proper Alice-size suits you best, I'd say, but..."

"Tarrant!" Alice cried to interrupt the torrent of words that conveyed the Hatter's joyful excitement. She laughed. "I'm so glad I'm back!"

"You're glad?" He gave another broad grin. "I can't even _think_ of what I am to see you again!" A giggle emphasised his excitement. "I'm glad, I'm delighted, I'm positively jubilant to see you back here!"

"What about 'exuberant'?" Alice asked, beaming.

"Completely."

"Overjoyed?"

"Mightily!"

"Elated?"

"Entirely!"

"Over the moon?"

"Twice, to be precise. That is, if it weren't at the cleaner's at this time of the season."

Alice gave him a bewildered gaze that stood in stark contrast to her bright face only instants ago.

"Of course! It would get all dusty and blotchy if you let it hang up there without giving it an occasional cleaning!"

"Oh, that's why..." muttered Alice.

"Anyway, I'm so _madly_ happy that you're here again," he added with an excited lisp. "You let me wait quite some time, you know, naughty you – that is, us, I mean, you let _us_ wait, all of us, and they waited so patiently you would have thought them all without a bit of a heart in their chest, not showing a wee bit of regret that ye couldn't stay, heartless, mindless, thoughtless..." Outlandish brogue had taken over again, his eyes turned to amber.

"Hatter!"

"I'm fine!" With a gasp and a rueful gaze, Tarrant snapped back to his usual self. Shame on him that he had let himself get carried away before the very eyes of his sweet little Alice. But he was so brimming with emotions, he hardly knew which one to suppress and which one to let out! What a terrifically marvellous, wonderful, glorious day that she had returned! Indeed, he would have to think of an appropriate byname for this day, even frabjous was too weak a word to properly describe his feelings. Maybe it could even be made into a footnote on the endless scroll of the oraculum that today would bear this sobriquet... What day was it, anyway? Freenshum Day? Garwich Day? He somehow had lost track of the date lately. Hadn't mattered much, after the thoroughly unfrabjous evening of Frabjous Day... The Hatter stepped a little closer, bowed down to Alice. "Would you – could I - ?" he asked gleefully.

Tarrant was literally radiating colour when Alice agreed to stand on his palm and he lifted her up to his face, careful not to sweep her off her feet with too rash a motion, holding his breath for a moment, taking in every detail about her. Most, _most_ unbelievable. She was back. She was here. It was her! It was the same sweet Alice-face, the same golden Alice-hair that framed it, the same sparkling brown Alice-eyes that smiled up at him in unison with her lips. She had not changed a bit. That was, except for her height. And except for her muchness. She had not had a lot of it when she had come back the last time. She had had a lot more when she had left him. But now she seemed to be brimming with it, every inch of her seemed to be filled with joy and muchness and confidence. It was astonishing how so much muchness could be squeezed into so few inches of Alice!

"Oh dear," he whispered, eyeing her up and down and up again, like someone would who had just chanced upon a gemstone on a muddy road, almost lost in this crazy feeling of unbridled joy. "I'd really know you anywhere, and in any way, shape or form. Or size."

"Drink is finished," twittered Queen Mirana, looking at them as if she had just returned from some other place far away. "Tarrant, you allow..." She gracefully plucked a thimble from one of the Hatter's fingers and filled it with a few drops of the liquid from her cauldron. "Lovely!" She handed it to Alice who had just been placed back on the tabletop very gently. "Don't let it get too cold. It tastes horrible once it's cold. Has to do with the snuvel-dust, it gives anything quite a strong aftertaste." Her fair nose wrinkled a tiny bit in very elegant disgust, but she instantly returned to her usual smile before the wrinkles could catch hold. "You can get rid of the smack if you dip a mouse in before drinking, but I guess there's none around that would agree, so: Bottoms up!" She smiled encouragingly.

The potion worked within seconds, and just a wink of an eye later Alice found herself naked on the edge of the table, with her previous dress-handkerchief quickly covering the most important one of her strategic areas. The Hatter politely squeezed his eyes shut.

"No worries, nothing seen!" he exclaimed merrily. Very merrily.

"Excellent. You may want to go now, Tarrant, thank you!" Queen Mirana lithely floated in front of Alice, obstructing the view with her voluminous white skirts and, gently smiling, complimented the Hatter through the door, which he almost missed. "And you can open your eyes again!"

As if he really wanted to open them! Not as long as this wonderful image of peachy, creamy, rosy Alice-softness was still impressed on the back of his eyelids! Thankfully Mallymkun found him a little later, still with a dreamy smile on his face and eyes tightly shut, leaning against a pillar, and escorted him back to his quarters.


	11. How To Welcome A Guest

**Be warned, this and the following three chapters are slightly longer than those before (and I don't know about the following ones yet), there was just sooo much to squeeze into! Bursting with muchness they are, I hope! (Means I hope I managed to stay true to the characters; we'll see...)**

**Again, thanks for the encouraging reviews! A few answers in short: No, the Hatter hasn't lost his madness just because Alice returned, that would be too simple, his psychological profile is far too many-layered for such an easy way out. And no panic, I'm definitely NOT going to stop here, the real plot hasn't even started yet! Hehe... :D**

* * *

**Chapter 10 – How To Welcome A Guest**

"It really was worth the waiting!" purred a soft voice from the windowsill, seconds after Mallymkun had closed the door from the outside. Or had he closed the door himself? She was a dormouse, after all, which naturally meant that she was tiny... Anyway.

For a short, admittedly _very_ short moment, the Hatter was almost – _almost_ – tempted to open his eyes but in the end opted against it. Nonetheless he turned into the direction whence Chessur's voice came.

"It was!" he gleed, showing his broadest smile. "And I knew he'd come, just being late, as always!"

"Awww..." A perfectly content purr. "I'm not talking about her returning to Underland. I'm talking about Alice finally remembering, and your face when you saw her. _This_ was worth the waiting ever since I picked her up in Tulgey Wood."

The Hatter decided that now definitely was the right moment to open his eyes again and face Chessur, lazing on the windowsill.

"You knew were there she always me..." He forced himself to pause for a moment, picked up his muddled thoughts one by one, seized them by their collars and queued them up so they would make up a decent conversation once he opened his mouth again. "You _knew_ this all? _You_ brought her here? Why didn't you tell me?!"

"Because," a series of somersaults accentuated Chessur's delight, "it would have spoilt all the fun! Moreover..." He floated above the Hatter's hat and gently, playfully alighted on top of it, one of his front paws dangling down to play with the hatband, "what do you want? After all, I..." He was interrupted by Tarrant snatching the hat off his head with a not-at-all-very-amused expression, and storing it under his arm, thus robbing the wispy cat of his ground. Chessur elegantly hovered down. "...brought her here as fast as I could. Where else should I lead her – to the sad remnants of your teaparty corner?" He sneered.

"No, not that..." Tarrant looked a bit abashed, the reproach was justified to some degree. He had indeed been a little neglectful towards his friends. But it simply couldn't be all play and party when the guest of honour was missing... No, he had done his very best in keeping up his usual cheerfulness, and one had to admit, he had almost always succeeded. He also had succeeded in returning to some kind of normal life when the time of the Underlandish Underground Resistance had been over. A normal life – as normal as could be after having lost everything, including one's mind. Would it have made a difference if Alice had stayed?

"But I could have prepared for meeting her if you had told me earlier!" he complained, then turned to a mirror, flipped his hat back on his head in a smooth, practised move and experimented with wearing it at different, dashing angles.

Chessur gave a sleek grin.

"Apart from the fact that your face surely wouldn't have shown this exquisitely precious, genuinely astonished countenance, you would definitely have missed her if you had been given time to prepare for this meeting. I know you, Tarrant – you would have spent half a day just trying to figure out which hat to wear!"

The corners of the Hatter's mouth darted slightly downwards in a make-believe grimace of hurt pride.

"No jokes on hats, Chess, we had agreed on that."

"But the truth on hats is still allowed." The feline was playfully hovering headlong and sent a spool of braid rolling across the room. "And after having chosen your hat – most likely the same worn out, tattered, nice, fine, lovely specimen that crowns you right now –, it would have taken you another three hours to make up your mind what jacket would match best with what shirt and whether you would be wearing trousers or your kilt, assumed that the occasion was ceremonial enough to dig out that old..."

Tarrant spun round and literally flashed his eyes at the cat in a dangerous, fiery orange.

"Ye better not be mocking me kilt, ye slurvish, matted furball, nor me tartan or me clan, that is, or I swear the next hat I shall finish will bear very close resemblance to the scrumball of a cat ye are..." With a wheeze and a gasp the Hatter managed to snap out of his rant, only his eyes remained slightly yellowish. "Mind that!" he squeezed out in a hoarse whisper, blinked and cleared his throat.

"...sign of Hightopp-pride and glory." Chessure ended with a sleek grin that allowed no conclusion as to whether this wording had been his original intention or just a polite drawback to spare his friend's nerves.

A barely audible grumble from the Hatter's side was the answer.

"But then we still wouldn't have figured out the question of necktie or jabot or bowtie," Chessure ran on, "not to speak of the plentiful abundance of colourful variations and combinations of socks. And by the time you'd be ready to greet her with a bunch of flowers in your hand after a raid through Mirana's flowerbeds, Alice would already have retired to her chambers without getting as much as a glimpse of you. She would have been devastated... So, you see, I actually spared you a lot of trouble!"

"Sure, and march hares are perfectly reasonable fellows..." the Hatter muttered under his breath and plunked into a chair. A few moments passed in silence while he got lost in delightful thoughts again and almost forgot about the presence of the Cheshire Cat.

"And now? What are you going to do now?" purred the cat and alighted on one of the many hats that were draped on countless hat-stands in the room but floated up again with a slightly regretful smile – there simply was no hat as comfortable as Tarrant's. Alas.

Indeed, what was he going to do now? Tarrant had no idea, actually. He had spent a considerable part of his days and nights painting vivid, imaginary pictures in his mind about Alice's return (If only he could hang them up, his rooms would be plastered with them! Or maybe better just one, a single picture of Alice in her blue dress, her eyes twinkling, her lips twitching in this arch smile of hers that she had given him a few times after she had recovered her muchness... Yes, a single one would be better. And maybe the rest in the other rooms.), but he had never thought further than that. What was he going to do once she _was_ back? His thoughtful frown intensified until his eyebrows almost met, then his face alighted in a sudden start of fancy. Of course, why hadn't he thought of it earlier!

"Tea!" he exclaimed, his eyes shining in exactly the same bright green like the untamed hills of the Outlands.

Chessur pricked his ears at this sudden outburst and abandoned the remnants of the ball of cord he had successfully been spreading all over the floor and the furniture. The constant whiteness of Marmoreal always made him a little dizzy, this palace definitely lacked colour! The floor looked like the walls looked like the ceiling looked like the floor... He had once tried spinning as quickly as possible in mid-air to find out if it was possible to beat gravity and maybe turn upside into downside, which would have caused quite some distress among those who were not so apt at evaporating... Briefly worded, this was the first, only and last time ever that he had failed to float a straight line – sideways as well as up-down-ways. Thankfully no one had witnessed this shameful defeat.

"You mean, tea? Like _tea_?"

"Of course! Each of our meetings started with tea! Tea is good. Tea is perfect – t holds so many nice things, like toast and thimble and treacle and thought and truth and touch and twosomeness and..."

"Tragedy? Terror? Threat?"

"Oh, shut it, spoilsport. We usually met over a cup of tea – or a pot, the last time she came, luckily it was empty, I don't even know if she can swim – whenever she visited Underland. I see no use in changing this nice habit!"

"A teaparty, then. How very inventive! I guess I must live with the shame of not being invited?"

Tarrant had risen, inspired by this wonderful idea, and had stepped on the chair, standing there and mustering the chaotic room in the same thoughtful, frowning way he usually mustered his hats when he lacked inspiration – which, thankfully, usually occurred only once in a frippy heblum – and was pondering where to put the tables and which sorts of jam to serve. "I said _two_someness, not _three_someness, right?" he mumbled, slightly distracted.

"Spoilsport..."

"But," spoken with enthusiasm again, for the Hatter had come to a satisfying conclusion, "you have the honour of delivering the invitation for tea. That is, as soon as Alice is dressed, mind you." He had to fight hard to keep the corners of his mouth straight, for some reason they kept twitching upwards into a contented smile at this memory.

"I will even knock, if that comforts you."

"Well then, ask her if it would be convenient for her to join me for tea today, mid-late afternoon, maybe, but not too-late afternoon, or it would interfere with high tea."

Chessure disappeared into thin air with his usual evaporating elegance, leaving behind his smile and eyes that finally vanished after a conspiratory wink. This was the moment Tarrant saw fit to do a brief but downright vigorously vivacious futterwacken.


	12. Making Up Ones Mind

**Chapter 11 – Making Up One's Mind**

Alice rejoiced inwardly when she leaned back in a tub full of warm water and enjoyed the achievements of the past hour. She had regained her right size. She had lunched. She had found a place to stay and rest for the time being. She had recovered all her memories of wonderful Underland. _All_ her memories! With a low chuckle she closed her eyes. How could she be so dull! To forget the Hatter! No one would forget him – except for her mazy mind. Stupid, stupid woman that she was. But would she have been able to live her life the way she had if the memories of Underland had been omnipresent? If regret and longing had been her constant companions? Wouldn't she have gone mad, always having to think about what might have been, asking herself if she had made the right decision...

Her eyes snapped open again when the shadow of a thought crossed her mind that she had not thought before as long as she had been here in Underland: _you could stay..._ She had told Queen Mirana that she could not stay for long, that she had obligations in her own world she had to comply with, _wanted_ to comply with, for those obligations were the life she had chosen, the life she had built up – _her_ life! Only now there had been an ever so slight change to the emphasis... She leaned her head back over the rim of the white marble basin, watched the world upside down in the hope that maybe (this was Underland, after all!) her confused thoughts might converge right beneath her vertex and unite to some brilliant answer.

No answer. Just pink cheeks and slight dizziness when, after some time, she brought her head back to its normal position. She had always been so good at making decisions, why did this aptitude fail her now?

"Because of a beamish, red-haired, green-eyed, delightfully offbeat man." Alice grinned when she voiced her thoughts, producing a faint echo that resounded from the walls of the niche where the large tub was placed and finally plunged into the water. Hopefully it could swim! Did echos like to bathe? She giggled. Silly girl that she still was, ready to throw over all her plans for a man. The memories of her last stay were fresh and vivid as could only be – just as if they lay back not four years, but only a few days. '_You won't remember me.'_ The look he had given her before she had returned to her world. Sadness, hope, love, all at once. She had thought it a good decision to return nonetheless and pursue her father's high-flown plans – with success. But she remembered that this decision had wavered soon, that the thought of the Hatter's longing green eyes had driven her almost mad during many nights when all was quiet, no activity kept her thoughts from revolving around this one question, and it took all her strength to pull herself together and go on along the path she had chosen until finally those memories had indeed faded, just as he had predicted.

And now she was back here. Why ever. She was back here, and she felt the same way when she thought of him. This fluttery, warm, gut-squirbling (she would define this word later when her head was clear again) feeling that told her she would very much like to stay for a while and see the Hatter again, and she was quite sure he would be equally delighted. _'Why is it you're always too small or too tall...'_ She chuckled. That moment back then – oh, she didn't know what would have happened if she had been her proper size. The Hatter's fearful stare when he had asked her if he had gone mad had melted her heart, and she had been astonished how quickly he had calmed himself again, reassured by her words. Or by her touch? His eyes had given him away. At any rate this had been the moment when she had been completely sure, right there on the edge of disaster.

Oooh, it had taken her quite some time to even get somewhat close to 'sure'. Blame it on their first meeting. It truly was not easy to suddenly, unpreparedly find oneself in a strange world, filled with even stranger creatures and be welcomed, shrunk and stuffed into a teapot (all this in a breathtakingly short time) by a weird-looking, shock-headed madman whose obvious specialties were manic giggling and utterly nonsensical talk, strewn with a handful of wisecracks and topped with his settled conviction that _she_ was the chosen one to slay some monstrous animal. A madman who had done everything possible to save her, Alice, the supposed Champion, from the Red Queen's henchmen. A very amiable madman, whose actions had astonished her so much she had felt compelled to help him. A madman not so mad after all, not a lunatic, not a maniac, only slightly round the bend, a little off his rocker, a bit madder than she considered herself to be, but good-hearted, judging by his character, big-hearted, judging by his actions – and broken-hearted, judging by what he had told her about his past. It had taken her some time to realise all this, but not very long. She had always possessed a talent for discerning people's true qualities. And if at the beginning she had been miles away from 'sure' – virtually on the extremely opposite side of it – she had come much closer to 'sure' when she had witnessed the Hatter lure the red soldiers off her track by letting them take _him_ prisoner. Her natural reaction had been to come to his aid, even if it meant putting herself in danger. She had been very close to 'sure' when she had seen him again in the Red Queen's throne room, all downcast and blue (even his shirtfrills), his mind far away, out of the reach of Stayne's brutal force that had left its traces on his body. A sight that had made Alice's insides convulse, even though she had forced herself not to show any reaction. How far would he have gone to keep her whereabouts a secret?

She sighed. And despite all this she had left Underland, had returned to her own world. Now she was back. She ought to seize this chance! Answer found, problem solved. Not at all. But maybe she _could_ stay until Frilwick day, as Queen Mirana had suggested... It was her, Alice's, birthday party, after all, so she felt authorised to take her time and return a little later. If the well-wishing and toasting and boresome chatter started a little later, she would be the last person to mind this! It would be a birthday present to herself. Why not! This resolution gained, she started rubbing herself down with the sponge – crossing half Underland, even if more or less conveniently done on the back of rocking-horse-flies and dogs, did leave traces – and shortly afterwards put on one of the dresses that had been prepared for her. Needless to say that the high-waisted garment was white, but thankfully the queen seemed to know about Alice's dislike for corsets.

"I hope I do not come at an awkward moment?" a familiar voice sounded from the bed.

"Chess!" Alice exclaimed, spinning round. "How did you get in?"

The cat evaporated and reappeared right beside her, alighting on the table.

"Does this answer your question?" He showed his usual grin. "Oh, I almost forgot..." he knocked on the table with his furry paw, producing a muted tap, "I promised Tarrant I would knock!"

Alice stared at him for a moment before she finally understood and struggled not to slap her hand to her forehead.

"You're here on behalf of Tarrant?" asked she then with a barely suppressed, genuinely happy smirk. Thinking about him so intensively seemed to have done the trick!

"Indeed I am, he sent me to deliver a message to you. That is, if you want to hear it. You see, I don't want to interrupt you in any important doings..."

Alice didn't know whether to laugh or to frown at the teasing cat, in any case glad that in _her_ world cats only played with balls of wool and other harmless objects, and not with people's nerves. But she retained a feigned calmness, sat down in a cushioned chair and put on the embroidered slippers that went with the dress.

"I have no obligations as for today," she answered, "so you can as well tell me..."

"So you might consider following the Hatter's invitation for tea?"

Alice's face brightened, her feigned calmness crumbled to pieces in an instant.

"Of course!" What a question! "When? Now?"

"Only if you want to upset him." The tip of the cat's tail swished through the air in an excited manner. "Mid-late afternoon was the time he mentioned. I'll pick you up and lead you there – you'd get lost in this whiteness..." The grin slackened a bit but was, as usual, the last part of him to vanish, leaving Alice to spend the short time until the appointed hour in pleasant anticipation. Chessur re-appeared behind Alice while she was standing on the balcony, day-dreaming, and they set out quickly, for she was impatient, no lazy floating this time. When they had reached the right door, Alice waited for the cat to disappear, then took a deep breath, knocked and entered the chamber that was, as a result of Tarrant's motivated clean-up after his last fit of rage, tidy and spotless, with the usual large and thankfully very colourful assembly of tables, chairs and china without which an Underlandish teaparty seemed to be impossible.

Tarrant spun round when he heard the door go. Stupid doorknob, he could have warned him that Alice had arrived! Most likely the silly thing was still sulking, he had addressed it in a rather harsh tone the last time his rage had carried him away. Not his fault that he didn't get along well with doorknobs, they were far too touchy, in his opinion... Focus. Alice. Here. He flashed a smile in her direction and hastily ordered the last few things on the table, then hurried towards her.


	13. Tea For Two

***whistles innocently* I guess you'll either love this chapter, or hate it and say it doesn't fit at all. But I think it does! :D**

* * *

**Chapter 12 – Tea For Two**

"I hope I'm not early," hesitated Alice when she noticed the Hatter's last-minute bustle. "Or late!" she added, smiling.

"It is almost late afternoon, so you actually couldn't be anything but late!" the Hatter giggled. "But this time it's all my fault, for if I had invited you for _early_ afternoon, you wouldn't have stood a chance of being late, as in any case you would have been early, no matter how..." He silenced for a second right in the middle of his sentence, struck by a sudden thought, looking slightly alarmed. "Tea!" he cried out and rushed back to the table to pour the drink through a tea strainer from one teapot into the other – not before upending the empty one first to make sure there was no dormouse sleeping in it. "Oh dear, I fear it's much too strong already... Pray, take a seat."

"Don't worry, it'll be just perfect." Alice smiled and sat down in one of the chairs.

"I also did some baking. The scones are still hot!" With a proud smile on his face he offered Alice a platter of fresh pastry that smelled delicious and explained the bandage round Tarrant's hand that she hadn't seen before. Hatters naturally didn't have to deal with baking ovens very often, it seemed.

"Isn't Thackery the queen's cook currently?"

"Not right now, he's on holiday. Will do his nerves good, I bet. Poor thing, he seemed a tad bit, well, overstretched lately."

Alices smiled.

"Honestly, if I didn't know better, I wouldn't believe that someone with Thackery's tense nerves was capable of cooking for a royal court!"

"Who said he's cooking for the court!" the Hatter remarked merrily, busying himself to make Alice comfortable with tea, scones, clotted cream, a selection of jam (that had survived the March Hare's last raid on the pantry), sugar, an additional cushion in case she wasn't sitting comfortable enough... "He's the cook, that's all." There seemed to be an obvious difference between those two facts that Alice felt incapable of figuring out, but it wasn't really important right now anyway. "And he can cook, that's for sure, always had a fancy for homely things, feasts and parties. Very convenient, to have division of responsibilities whilst we were leading the Resistance: Thackery did the cooking, I did the thinking," he explained in his usual soft lisp as he settled right beside Alice, secretly pushing his chair still a little closer to hers. "That's how we came to be known as a bunch of lunatics and were almost always out of scones!" he added with pretended seriousness, causing Alice to half choke with laughter and a bite of scone.

"Why are there so many chairs, anyway?" asked she after some coughing and Tarrant helpfully patting her back. The explanation came presently.

"Tradition. You never know who might stop by while you're taking your tea, and it would be terribly inconvenient _not_ to have enough space and cups and chairs to invite anyone who happens to come round to just take a seat and have tea with you. Moreover it comes in handy if you happen to hold a long teaparty, so you can just move up one place and have clean dishes again. You do remember that, don't you?" he inquired, giving Alice a questioning glance while he casually spooned tea into the sugar basin and stirred.

"Indeed..." Thankfully Alice didn't only remember her last stay here up to the tiniest detail, she also remembered her stays as a little girl. Only right now she was a bit distracted from those memories by Tarrant's doing. He followed her gaze, noticed the mix up and brushed his mistake aside with a thoroughly amused giggle, then deposed of the mess by hiding it under a tea cosy.

"There we go. Perfect. You feel alright?" He turned back to Alice.

"Perfectly alright. I couldn't feel better!" she beamed, which seemed to relieve the Hatter a great deal.

"That's good, I was hoping you would. Very good, perfect..." his voice faded and he stirred his tea most diligently, giving it his undivided attention. "I was hoping to make you feel comfortable here, you know!" He looked up again, happy to have made up another sentence to chase the silence away. "Strenuous journey you had, I have been told."

Alice smiled when she heard him prattle on with this adorable slight lisp of his that always intensified when he was at ease, weakened when the situation turned official and vanished entirely when rage overwhelmed him. She knew for sure she wouldn't have liked a lisp about any other man, but in Tarrant's case it seemed perfectly natural, perfectly Hatter-ish. She snickered.

"It was not too inconvenient. First I rode on one of those little horse-flies, then on Bayard, and no bandersnatch to chase me this time!"

"Riding on a rocking-horse-fly? Oh, brave little thing! This time you brought your muchness right with you!" Unveiled admiration spoke from his words. "Brave, muchness..." he muttered absentmindedly before he silenced again, his smile fading, eyes turned down on his teacup. He noticed one of his bethimbled fingers tap restlessly against the saucer with a clinking sound. Stop that! Better.

The pause in their conversation gave Alice time to muster her host a little closer. Not that she had forgotten his looks, but it seemed so amazing to her how they changed every time she met him. She had soon figured out that the Hatter wore his heart not only on his sleeve, but also on his jacket, even on the lace of his shirtcuffs indeed, that all his feelings seeped through him, displayed on the surface like on a painter's canvas. The last time she had been to Underland, she had been astonished at this wild mix of colours that were constantly intensifying, softening, changing, turning even his face into a mirror of his feelings. Very strong feelings, all too bright colours, baffling her and conveying every change in his mood. Together with his bright clothes and the wild shock of tousled, flame red hair he would never have met the high and narrowly regulated standards of beauty in her world. Close-minded world!

When she had returned, it had seemed to her as if a grey haze was dampening the brightness of those colours – but that haze had vanished quickly once the Hatter had noticed her return. He had regained his brightness, and Alice liked it that way. She liked his peculiar way of dressing, his pale, almost milk-white skin, the colours that played around his eyes, the flaming hair – which, so she noticed now, had grown a little since she had last seen him, and appeared a bit neater than before. Why not, he was the royal hatter again, not some rebellious subject who spent his days hiding from the tyrant's henchmen. Also the colours on his face had changed a bit, they were not as garish as they had been; still bright, still changing, depending on his mood, but less gaudy, making him appear less pressurised. His lips, on the contrary, had not changed at all; they were still rosy, soft-looking and apt to laughing, which would reveal the little gap between his front teeth that was accountable for this occasional, soft lisp. But right now, one thing about those lips disturbed her a bit: they ought to be smiling, yet they were not.

Tarrant's thoughts were raging. This was so very difficult. Very, very difficult. More difficult than anything ever before. Well, almost anything. There were a few things in his past that had been still more difficult than this. But they were sad, mournful, they did not belong here... He had been thinking it over all the time while he had occupied himself with the preparations for the teaparty (which included the valuable lesson that absentmindedness was no suitable protection against hot baking plates) and had in the end made up his mind: he would not miss his chance again. He had once, and had spent a long time rueing it. So in a sudden fit of courage the Hatter looked at Alice who was just taking a sip of her tea to bridgeover the silence, put on his brightest smile and blithely asked: "Alice, would you like to marry me?" He hadn't wasted a single thought on how she would react, but he surely hadn't expected that in her surprise she would spill half the tea over herself, gasping and leaving him without any answer.

"What... Why? But..." For a short moment, Alice felt a little out of her depth and sought to buy time by looking for a napkin to clear the mess on her skirts.

"Here, take a scone. They soak quite well!" Tarrant politely offered her a bun which she took, baffled by this peculiar suggestion, and placed on the tea stain on her dress. When she looked at the Hatter, he wore a perfectly placid and happy expression and was spreading clotted cream on top of his be-jammed scone. Feigned, all feigned! – but this only he knew. He wasn't hungry at all, in fact his stomach felt all tensed up as if he had eaten too much sweet squimberry cake, and his heart was beating somewhere right behind the bowtie round his neck, or so it felt. He was buttering the scone just to keep his hands from fidgeting nervously, and to keep his mind from getting lost again. No violent fits of rage whenever Alice was around, he had promised himself.

"You..." She swallowed. ""Do you really mean what you just said?"

"Why would I say it if I didn't mean it? I mean, there would be no point in doing so, unless I wanted to kill Time – again – by nonsensical jabbering, but to be honest, I'm quite happy that he has stopped letting it be teatime all the time, which, of course, doesn't mean I didn't like tea anymore or could..."

"Tarrant!"

He started, then slowly let his knife and scone sink on the plate, eyes turned down, corners of his mouth drooping as well as his brows.

"No point in asking, I know. But I wanted to give it a try, thought it might be a good idea, a way to make you stay..." he murmured, then looked at her, his gaze meeting hers, the same expression in his eyes that she remembered so well. "Alice, I don't want you to leave again."


	14. Strawberries In Plenty

**I guess you've now figured out that things in Underland don't work exactly like they would here in our world, still less if a certain Hatter is involved! ;D Hope you're still enjoying the story nevertheless. And thanks for all your kind reviews, they really help me to improve and stay motivated! :)**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 13 – Strawberries In Plenty**

She sat there, dumbstruck, unable to utter a single word, completely overwhelmed by what he said, completely stunned by the wishful tone of his voice and the possibilities that were unfolding before her. But could it be? Would she be able to? Alice did not in the least doubt that in Tarrant she had found her match, that in him she had, at last, found someone who allowed her to be herself and that she would gladly stay by his side forever – but what about the life she had become used to? She had always dreamed about living in a place less restricted, less narrow-minded than her own world. But would she still want this if it meant leaving her family and staying in Underland forever? Would she be strong enough to exchange the life she had become used to, stiff and boring as it sometimes was, yet usually interesting and adventurous ever since she had taken up the reigns, for a life in a world full of madness and astonishement, where almost nothing was as it seemed, ever-changing, ever-challenging? Would she bear leaving her family, who she loved despite their stuffy view of life? This was what kept Alice from answering instantly, and when she finally felt capable of speaking again, only inconsistent, hesitant words came over her lips.

"This is all... Well, I... How could I say..."

Tarrant's hopes were going down the drain before his very eyes. His bold, helter-skelter venture had failed, and his heart sank while Alice was stammering random bits of answers. Every inch of his appearance conveyed the impression of defeat, fists clenched in his lap, bowtie limp, jacket a shade duller and darker than usual. Had he been too fast? But he couldn't allow himself to waste time when he didn't know how long she was going to stay this time! Last time she had stayed for four days only, had turned his world upside down (and saved it, by the by) and had vanished. Maybe he should have asked her _first_ how long she intended to stay and _then_ have adjusted his plans? Anyhow, no use in crying over spilt tea. When had a Hightopp ever given up? No one ever had, not even if he was down on the ground and almost beaten, and neither would the last one of them, certainly not! As always, he still had one hatpin tucked away, as the old saying went in his trade. With a sudden smile he turned to Alice and, in a lithe, quick and unexpected move leaned over, placed one of his hands behind her neck, gently pulled her a little towards him and placed his lips on hers.

His kiss tasted of strawberries. It was the first thing that came to Alice's mind, long before she noticed the oddness of the situation: a stolen kiss over upset china und spilt tea; tender lips on hers, demanding yet gentle in their doing; the Hatter's hand on her neck, four soft fingertips and one bethimbled, a touch that sent a slight shiver down her spine and caused a pleasant tickle deep down; yes, this clearly was what would have happened that day in the chamber of the Red Queen's palace, if she hadn't been so ridiculously large... But she barely had time to react in what way ever ere the kiss ended and Tarrant sat back again.

"Forgive me. Have you changed your mind?" he asked eagerly.

Alice noticed that his expression did not at all correspond with his words. No one would ever bring forth such an apology with this sincerely joyful, hopeful, trustful look of his! No one but him.

"Changed my mind to what?" she blurted out, glad to find that she had recovered her ability to speak. "You didn't even give me time to answer your question, so how could I change my mind if I haven't even made it up yet!"

The Hatter's joyful countenance left him for good and was replaced by a glum look. Naught fer usal. All lost. No hope. Why had he spoken, why hadn't he waited, why wasn't she willing to stay, why could... A hand touched his, stopped his thoughts that had started to spin and whirl.

"It's not because of you," Alice explained, her voice very soft so as not to hurt this man who had just, in this rash and unconventional way of his, presented her his heart on a silver platter. A heart she would never want to treat unkindly.

"Not?" His voice sounded worried, doubtful.

She shook her head in affirmation, her other hand joining the first one in enclosing the Hatter's.

"No. What should be wrong with you?"

"I don't know. Maybe that I've lost my mind? That I'm just a hatter, and a mad one, at that – albeit the very best hatter around – who might not be fit for the Champion of Underland? That I tend to overwhelm you continuously by stuffing you into teapots, getting you in head-risking trouble, forcing you to do things you don't want to, like slaying, and making proposals that upset you?"

"But it didn't upset me," Alice interjected. "It just – well, caught me unawares. Like a bandersnatch from behind!" She gave a laugh, but it was not answered.

"My proposal is _not_ like a bandersnatch!" The Hatter frowned, inducing in Alice the wish to gently skim her fingers along his distinctive eyebrows so they would slide back in their proper place and unfurrow his brow that she did not want to see clouded.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I was just trying to make you smile again. I like it much better when you smile."

"So do I! It's by far not as exhausting as frowning." Thankfully there was already the first shimmer of a smile to be seen on the Hatter's face, and Alice's expression relaxed.

"What made you ask?" she queried. "I mean, I've been here for not even one full day – how can you be sure, how can you know?" How could he be so sure, and she not? She was good at making decisions, she ought to know...

"I know," was the answer. Suddenly Tarrant was sure that never before in his life he had given an answer as perfectly clear and logic as this. "I simply _know_. Why did I suggest you stay here after you had slain the Jabberwocky? Why did I hope for your return all the time so intensively that all of my friends thought I had gone round the bend _again_? Which would mean, assuming that sanity is a rectangle, I would have to go round the bend once more and would return to sanity, provided I had started at one corner..." He giggled at this thought, and also Alice couldn't suppress a smile. Then he gently moved one hand over her cheek, rested it there, looked at her with these bright, green eyes, mirrors of a self deeply hidden in the tangles of madness. Eyes that now were unclouded, clear and hopeful. "I would do anything to make you stay, and I figured that asking you this question must be the only way to keep you here." He paused. "Are _you_ not sure?"

Alice knew that this was the moment when she could win what she had always dreamed of – or lose everything. A moment more fragile than glass. She felt her heart rage in her chest with nervousness, then decided to speak the plain and simple truth.

"What made me hesitate was the thought of my family," Alice admitted at last, after a moment so long Tarrant had already begun to wonder if Time had stopped again. "I don't know if I'm ready to leave them forever. And I don't know if I'm fit for a life here in Underland. It's all so unfamiliar and... wondrous, and yet part of me knows that I belong here. It's not easy, you see..." She could feel that her stammering was definitely not what Tarrant had been waiting, hoping for, so she just came to the point to end his suspense. "But if I found a way, if I could make up my mind at last, I would like nothing better than to be with you, Tarrant."

The Hatter showed no reaction. That was, unless one looked very closely. Alice had expected some exuberant demonstration of delight as was his custom, but instead, she saw an expression of deepest, most perfect joy spread over his face, this slight smile spoke of it just like the shimmer in his eyes and the softly brightened colours on his face, all this more sincere than any outburst of mad happiness.

"You see, there was no need to change my mind!" she added softly and gently pressed his hand.

"Oh dear, so it was one kiss spent in vain..." Tarrant said after a short, thoughtful pause.

"What..." As quickly as Alice had found her tongue, as quickly she lost it again.

The Hatter assumed a serious expression.

"Well, as to kisses," he explained, soft-voiced, "they should never be given lightheartedly, you know. As no one has so far been able to find out how many kisses you have in store, it is rather unwise to give them away thoughtlessly, for you can never know when you might run out of them. And running out of kisses would be most, most unpleasant, wouldn't you agree?"

Alice gave a hearty laugh, she just couldn't contain herself anymore and only hoped it would not raise the wrong impression.

"Oh Hatter, you truly are the most unbelievable, most insane and most wonderful man I have ever met. But –," she paused for a little smirk, "I can return this kiss to you, if you want..."

"That you would do?" It was impossible to tell whether his incredulous countenance was genuine or contrived. Alice strongly suspected the latter and snickered.

Yes, there it was again – this much-beloved Alice-grin! She had not changed, his sweet Alice. Except for growing up, that was. Considering this, he truly had to thank Time for getting stuck for him and his teaparty until little Alice of years ago had grown to _this_ Alice. Could be a good thing, to kill Time every now and then. And it felt good to repeat the name Alice in his mind again and again. Almost as good as feeling it on the tip of his tongue every time he voiced it. Whereas, it was still more wonderful to feel Alice herself on the tip of his tongue, as he had just experienced...

"Well, actually I would very much like to keep yours, but a few of mine in return should make up for it..." he heard her whisper in answer to his previous question when she leaned towards him, interrupting his contemplation.

No doubt, she decided. Strawberries.


	15. Midnight Ramblings

**Chapter 14 – Midnight Ramblings**

It seemed now that this matter – and the Hatter – had been settled, everything went much more smoothly. Talking came without much thinking (well, that was how it usually worked in Tarrant's case, so it had been a far more startling experience to painfully piece a few matching words together to form a sentence when he had been nervous), tea, either spilt or ice-cold by now after so many important things that had to be clarified first, was freshly brewed, and they chatted away until late afternoon changed into early evening which (all too) soon turned into late evening. Alice hated to admit it, but at last she felt so tired after her long and eventful day that she found it harder and harder to follow the Hatter's narrations and also found herself grow more and more silent until finally she couldn't suppress a yawn anymore.

"Boring topic?" Tarrant had not failed to notice it. "Don't worry, I still have a dozen others..."

"I'm sorry," Alice apologised immediately, feeling guilty when she noticed the Hatter's expression change to slight worry. As much as she enjoyed this evening, the thought of a soft bed after this strenuous day was very tempting. "I'm really enjoying myself. It's just been such a long day already that it almost feels like two birthdays!" And indeed, now that she thought about it, it really seemed as if this day had more hours than a normal one. To her astonishment she noticed the Hatter's look turn still more worried.

"Your birthday?" He suddenly remembered that in Alice's world, birthdays counted far more than unbirthdays, unlogic as this was. She had told him during her very first stay in Underland.

Alice nodded.

"I was celebrating my birthday, and it was on this party that by pure chance I discovered the rabbit hole and came here." She chuckled. "The best present, so far!"

Tarrant hardly noticed that she had put her hand on his again, he was too busy racking his brains what might be a suitable birthday present for Alice. In any case it would have to be something grand, something exceptional to make up for all the unbirthdays that could not be taken into account...

"Tarrant?"

He looked at her, caught.

"Present – I'm here!"

"Did you hear what I said?" Surely he had not, his gaze had drifted off more and more while she had been talking.

"Um – half? I'm sorry, I was lost in pres..., in thoughts." Would a charming smile suffice as an apology? He'd give it a try. Yes, worked! Alice answered with a slightly tired chuckle.

"Dear me," she sighed in a not really serious way, "I guess these are the moments when Thackery starts throwing teacups at you to get the attention he deserves. Don't you force me to do the same!"

"In any case I would much more prefer _you_ to be the one who throws the cups, dear Alice!" Tarrant assured brightly and patted her hand. "What did I miss?"

Alice rolled her eyes.

"You missed that I told you about the most wonderful gift I got today!"

"How many have you already gotten?" He quickly silenced again when he noticed two things: that his voice gave away his concern, and the look Alice gave him.

"Tarrant, you miss the point!" she exclaimed, getting a little impatient. "I'm trying to pass a compliment here!"

He answered not, just signalled that he would say nothing until Alice had ended and sat there with an expectant smile.

"The greatest gift was that I came back to Underland, that I met you again! Oh, it doesn't sound even half as nice if I have to repeat it thrice until you listen!" She frowned and tried to pull her hand back, but Tarrant quickly tightened his grasp and held it in his.

"It does sound nice to me," he said, his voice soft and unfamiliarly calm. "Very nice indeed, Alice. And I wish I had been more attentive, so I would have heard it three times instead of just once."

She smiled, calmed by these sincere words.

"It was just two times I said it. But for you I'll gladly repeat it again: The most wonderful present I received today was to come here, and to see you again." She knew with every fibre of her self that she was speaking the truth.

At last Alice took her leave and withdrew to her rooms, for she felt that if she stayed just a minute longer, she would fall asleep right at the teatable between pastry and china. So they bade each other good night, and when the door had closed, Tarrant could hardly believe that this day really had been true. He sank into his chair and gazed idly into space, his face overhued with joy, his mind living through the past few hours again.

Years of waiting – finally rewarded! If anyone had told him so, he wouldn't have believed it. Actually he hadn't believed it when Mallymkun had told him so recently... Oh, why was this dormouse always right! Almost a pity that Time hadn't stopped again. _This_ teaparty would have been worth it!

Images flitted before his mind's eye. Alice smiling. Alice laughing. Alice sipping tea. Alice stroking her golden tresses back with a gentle move. Alice's arm accidentally brushing his jacket sleeve. Alice stunned by his question – no, that one didn't quite fit in. Alice touching his hand... Much better.

"It's none of my business, but you truly seem to be the most dim-witted triddlefum ever to have inhabited these quarters!" sneered a slightly creaky voice from somewhere behind the Hatter, jolting him from his musing. Just what he had been waiting for.

"And who, pray, would mind the opinion of a doorknob?" replied Tarrant, a little vexed, and nonchalantly gesticulated with his half-empty cup. "You know what's said about your kind, don't you?" This doorknob really was arrogant as could be! Ever since Tarrant had set up his workshop here on the queen's bidding, he had been brawling with this brassy fellow – in all senses of the word. Jamming, nagging, grousing little...

"Well, at least _I_ am not dumb enough to let a lady walk off all alone and get lost in the castle!" came the doorknob's snide answer in a decidedly scornful tone before it went into a huff.

Tarrant's eyes grew wide when he was whacked over the head with this sudden insight. Truly, where _was_ his brain tonight! Even now that Alice had left, there was still a very good reason to be close to her for a little longer. Daydreaming about Alice was nice, of course, but what was it compared to walking her back to her rooms! The spilt tea from the cup, hastily placed on the table, had not been soaked up by the tablecloth completely when Tarrant slammed the door shut behind him. Despite his haste he even spared a second for turning back and murmuring a quick apology to the doorknob for turning it too roughly in his eagerness to follow Alice.

Indeed he found her quite soon, coming in his direction, beaming at him through a veil of sleepiness.

"Now what a surprise!" she chuckled when they met in the dim light of softly glowing, blueish-white crystal lamps that illuminated the halls and corridors. "Don't say you got lost, too!"

"Not I, just my mind – and my manners." He snickered at the thought of his mind and manners playing tag in some remote corner of the palace. Although he was quite sure he had lost both of them already much earlier than during his stay here. "But don't worry, I'm sure I'll be able to find your room even without either of them. It was so stupid of me to just let you go..." Indeed, he resolved, from now on, he should be a lot warier about letting Alice go anywhere. Once gone had meant a terribly long time of waiting for the return. Returns usually were very joyful events, if only they were a little more expectable!

Alice gladly rested her hand in the crook of Tarrant's offered arm, unable to get this grin off her face. Manners? Since when did manners count here in Underland, where animals used to introduce themselves by materialising right behind you, just-met people filled you up with pishsalver, and sugar cubes were served by tossing them right across the teatable? A delightfully manner-less place it was, in any case, and she remembered how much she had enjoyed this the last time she had come here.

Maybe she belonged here, after all? Maybe she belonged in a place like this, where nothing was wrong and all was right in its own, twisted way; where a certain kind of madness was ordinary and what usually was considered normal and ordinary seemed so mad that she couldn't but laugh inwardly at the silly place her own bigoted world was, seen from this point of view. Maybe she belonged by the side of this mad and wonderful man she had missed so much, who was now guiding her back to her chambers, prattling about this and that until, after quite some time, they halted in front of one of the large white doors.

"Here we are! Not the shortest way, but the nicest, for sure," the Hatter beamed. Why not make a few detours, he had silently decided, to stay with his Alice a little longer and to feel her so close beside him, her arm linked with his.

"Oh Hatter, I'm so sorry, but I'm so tired, I can't remember anything you said on our way here. Please, you must tell me everything tomorrow..."

Tarrant looked into her eyes for a moment, smiling and feeling a little guilty for having been so selfish.

"Nevermind, I've already forgotten what I said. I'll make up something new until then. Something nice, something beautiful – for you."


	16. Getting Used To Underland

**Okay, as my one-shot-Tarrant-story seemingly wasn't very successful, I'll stick to this one - and hope you're all still enjoying it! :)  


* * *

Chapter 15 – Getting Used To Underland**

When Alice awoke, it was already bright morning, the sunlight reflected from the white interior and she turned between the sheets and sleepily gazed up at the ceiling, her mind slowly emerging from the depths of her dreams, which had been even weirder than anything she had seen here in Underland. Underland... A strange feeling to wake up here. But it was a feeling like being home, despite the past day of continuous wondering. What a day she had lived through! One single day in Underland was far more wondrous than a whole lifetime in her own world could be! She pondered over this finding. Indeed, it was true. Despite the many things she had seen on her travels around the world, it still was hard to find anything as astonishing and exciting as a stay in Underland. Not only because of a certain hatter... But to a great degree, she admitted to herself with a dreamy smile. Oh, how could she leave! Of course, she found her muchness back then, her courage, found out what she expected from life – but how did she find the immense strength to leave Tarrant behind? Already back then she knew about his feelings – and hers. Had she really believed him to be a mere imagination, one of her dreams? Foolish, oh, so foolish!

But maybe, she pondered on and turned around, burying her face in her pillow, maybe she hadn't known about the strength of her feelings, had underestimated how dearly she had come to love the Hatter during her brief stay. And the wish to make her father's dream come true had been existent for years, it had been such a revelation when she, after having slain the Jabberwocky, had finally realised that it was in her, that she, little more than a mere girl, truly had the strength to make this mad venture come true! It had been all she could think about when she had come back, brimming with muchness and determined to show the world what was in her. Tarrant. She had completely forgotten about him. But, truth be told, if she had not, she would most likely have returned only weeks afterwards, having achieved nothing, she would never have found out what it meant to have accomplished a goal long striven for... Love. A funny thing. Inexperienced as she had been back then, all the time just surrounded by drop-dead-boring gentlemen, it had taken her such an awfully long time to gain clearness about her feelings.

With a silent laugh she tossed on her back again. What happened yesterday was just too incredible! Mad, mad Hatter! Lovely, lovely Hatter! Proposing to her out of the blue, as casually as any other man would ask if she wanted a little more sugar in her tea. Oh, what a crazy, mad, wonderful idea! In her world, people would have been downright shocked at his behaviour, expecting from a suitor this ever unchanging ritual that should make a woman's heart melt, but completely failed to achieve this effect in Alice's case. Why kneel, why make a show of a moment that just required privacy and mutual certainty? What counted the surroundings when both already knew the answer – and of what use was it to ask if the answer was uncertain? From this point of view, it was her world that acted in a completely unlogic way, not Underland.

Well, what to make of this crazy, mad, wonderful idea? Yes, indeed – what to make of it? It was completely crazy, for how could she leave her own world forever, leave behind all those who she loved despite their tedious smugness, and who she now knew loved her despite their occasional criticism of her view of life? It was completely mad, for the very thought of staying in this bedlam world she had always believed only to exist in her mind would be completely unimaginable – to anyone but her. And it was completely wonderful, simply for the thought of staying here, of living among her friends, of finding adventure when she just crossed the doorstep, of having someone by her side who she knew she deeply, dearly loved. Despite his odd ways. Despite his unpredictability. Despite his madness. Or maybe because of all that.

Could one fall in love so quickly? Her inquisitive spirit seemed never to rest. Was it not just a temporary fancy? Did she not just favour the Hatter because he symbolised the very opposite of everything she hated in her world? Which meant, she pondered, that he symbolised everything she loved, which, in turn, seemed to her quite a good basis for a joyful life. And with this consideration she finally allowed herself to fall in love head over heels.

Alice felt compelled to rise when she heard a knock at the door. On opening it, she found herself facing – well, rather 'knee-ing' – two slightly oversized guinea-pigs that balanced a large tray on on their heads and eyed her from beneath it.

"Yer breekf'st," mumbled one, a bit of something green still peeping out of the corner of its mouth, probably its own breakfast. "An' ye loost yer head..."

"What?" Alice frowned and watched them march past her to shove the tray on the table. "My head?"

"Aye, yer head... 't's leein' on th' doorstep. We almost spilt yer tey upoon it!"

Bewildered Alice turned round and had a close look at the space in front of her door. There, previously hidden from her view by the guinea-pigs (or rather by the tray), lay a hat.

"Oh, my _hat_ you mean! But it isn't mine, actually..."

"Aye, said so, _head_." The more talkative guinea-pig shoved the green something into the other corner of its mouth, went on nibbling, pronunciation little improved, and with its little thumb pointed behind at Alice's breakfast tray. "Are ye gooin' te' eat tha' fruit?"

"Er – yes, I guess so." Alice noticed that the other little chap was obviously hiding something behind his back, trying to look innocent – in which he definitely succeeded, with those dark, beady eyes.

"Aww. Joos' askin'..."

"Nonetheless, feel free to serve yourselves, I don't think I can eat all this myself anyway!" She didn't want to appear impolite to the little animals, and she found them quite amusing.

"Ta, guv!" She hadn't even finished her invitation when both already had their paws in the fruit bowl and equipped themselves with a slice of melon in each paw and some undefined fruit in their mouths and padded out in single file. Alice quickly picked up the hat before they could step on it, her insides tingling a bit when she touched it. A light straw hat with broad brim and blue ribbons, simple but beautiful and finely crafted. A folded piece of paper was tucked under the hatband. With excitement Alice slammed the door shut carelessly to give all her attention to the letter, but jumped when the door complained.

"Would be too much to ask for if any of you fellows remembered what a handle is for, right? All this slamming and hectic squeezing and careless fumbling with keys when you know well that some of us are ticklish or get dizzy easily..."

"I'm sorry," Alice managed to gasp out when she had spun round and was facing an upset doorknob. "I didn't know you were ticklish!"

"Not I, but the knob on the door to the queen's antechamber is. And the one on the pantry-door in the kitchen. I just get all woozy when careless girls start slamming doors, still the more when it's so early in the morning!"

'So,' Alice thought when she collected her thoughts that had gotten in a slight jumble after this unexpected course of events, 'this is a perfect example of an ordinary day in Underland: your breakfast is served by hoggish guinea-pigs, and your doorknob complains about your rudeness.' She smirked. 'And it's much better than having my breakfast served by a sour-faced housemaid and my mother complaining that I sleep late!'

"I apologise sincerely," she answered with chosen politeness, trying to conceal her amusement, "I will henceforth show more consideration towards your kind."

"Apology accepted," murmured the doorknob, slightly appeased but still with a rather grumpy countenance, "and I hope you really mean it..."

Alice quickly turned away and yielded to the broad grin that urged itself on her face. Six impossible things before breakfast – one, she had returned to Wonderland; two, she had found the Hatter again; three, they had spent a very nice, very upsetting evening; four, guinea-pigs were clever enough to serve meals and assure themselves a few benefits; five, doorknobs were grumpy, talkative fellows; six, she was holding a letter from the Hatter. To avoid any further delay, Alice carefully placed the hat on the table, then just plunked in her bed again and unfolded the letter, a half-sheet of cream-coloured paper that looked so smooth and neat one would never think it really came from Tarrant's chaotic workshop.

'_Dearest Alice_',

it ran, written in bold handwriting,

'_I do hope your first night back in Underland was pleasant. Maybe you can tell me betimes what you dreamed about, I really wish that maybe I appeared in this dream, of course only if it was a nice dream, for I would hate to give you nightmares, that would be pretty embarassing – you didn't have any nightmares, did you? Anyways... Maybe you already, no, for sure you already found this small present, and I hope you will agree to wear it when we go for a walk together. You would make one hatter very happy by that. If you should happen to have time for a short visit (which, too, would make the same hatter very happy, and both would render him perfectly enthusiastic), my door is always open (not only because of the snappish doorknob). Until then I remain in expectant hatting,_

_T._


	17. A Hatter Went ACourting

**Voilá, in case anyone is still reading AiW-related stuff. I apologise for having been, well, umm, let's say 'indisposed', thanks to dear old Fate, that mazy fellow, who thought it amusing to turn my life into a rollercoaster. Anyways, more input for stories ;P**

**Chapter 16 – A Hatter Went A-Courting...**

Tarrant woke late in the morning, noticing that he was lying sprawled on the sofa in an odd position, legs dangling over the armrest, head perched on a crumpled scatter cushion, hat carelessly dropped beside him on the floor. He hastily arose, picked up the hat, dusted it off and put it back on his head. It took him a few moments to realise the situation and its cause. He had finished Alice's present. That was, the first one of many to come. He smiled at the image how she would find and hopefully like it. The smile changed into a hearty yawn and he stretched and adjusted his jacket. He had spent the rest of the night creating the present. Nothing special, just some small gift to cheer her once she woke up and found it. And she would look lovely in it... Another dreamy smile. He could hardly wait. Would she already be awake? Would she appreciate his present? Would she pay him a visit? Would she accept his invitation? Would she enjoy herself? The many questions lined up and started a circle dance in his head until he resolutely stopped them by just answering each of them with 'yes'. No use in worrying now when he could do so later just as well. He changed into a less crumpled jacket and picked a cup and a teapot from the table to get his breakfast ready. The teapot was surprisingly heavy and contained a dormouse. A yawning dormouse who blinked at him sleepily.

"Morning Mally! Did you sleep well?" Tarrant asked brightly, raising his eyebrows in slight surprise. This wasn't Mallymkun's favourite teapot!

"Well but little. Why, it took you two _ages_ to finish your tea so I could go to bed! I already thought you were going to stay up all night!" scolded the mouse gently.

"I would have, but Alice was already so sleepy, you should have seen her, and then I walked her back to her room, and she lay her head on my shoulder, and I took a few detours because I just couldn't bear leaving her so quickly..." He noticed his little friend's frown and bit his lip. Mallymkun looked adorable when she frowned, but one better not told her. He knew, for he had tried once, shortly after she had been equipped with her sword for self-defense against the Red Queen's minions. Bad idea. Not the sword, but mentioning the word 'sweet' in connection with her. Tarrant harrumphed and put the teapot on the table, looking for another clean one. "I _know_ it was selfish, but you _should_ have seen her! I really do hope she is already awake and we can go for that walk together that I have already planned, you know, to Tulgey Wood by that lovely path over the meadows, and... Or would you suggest going a bit further west? Maybe she likes green hills, I mean even if we don't go too far towards my homeland there's still plenty of very nice surroundings a few miles to the west, maybe we could ride, as long as Alice doesn't mount that horrendous bandersnatch again. What would you say, Mally?"

"I must confess that I missed a part of our conversation. But as you started with 'Alice' and 'aven't yet come further than to 'Alice' again, I seemingly 'aven't missed much," sneered the mouse when she climbed out of her teapot, fully dressed now.

"Why, what's wrong with Alice? _A_ _l_ovely, _i_nnocent, _c_urious..." he hesitated. E-words were particularly tricky. Elephant? Ephemera? Eclair? "_E_nglishwoman! Yes, that she is..." On second thought, it sounded almost too plain. There must be a better word to describe his dear Alice, but somehow his thoughts got caught between eggplants and earwigs, there branched off and he mused if he had ever seen an earwig the golden colour of Alice's hair, and if dodos and mock-turtles had any use for earwigs, as neither of them had ears, and how many earwigs had survived the great rush on them in the times of Miredon the Furious when wearing earwigs (either the colour of one's own hair or a contrasting one) at court had been the latest fashion.

"Innocent?" Mallymkun interrupted his reverie with a giggle. "You don't mean that seriously? Tha' girl slew the Jabberwock, she ain't innocent at all!"

"Well, then intelligent, interesting, incredible..."

"And will she stay this time or is she going to leave you again? You know I won't go through this annual after-Gribling-Day-depression-thing again, I've 'ad enough during the past four years!"

"...immaculate –" A short pause during which the Hatter's mood sank a little before he answered with considerably less enthusiasm. "She doesn't know yet. But she promised if she could, she would."

"Then she'd better stay, for I've 'ad enough of your terrible mood-swings! You can tell 'er that!" Mallymkun stated and crossed her arms to emphasise her words. Anyone who didn't know the dormouse as well as the Hatter would have marveled at this gruff demeanour, but to him it was well known that gentle, flowery words were not her style.

"Don't worry, Mally, I will. And maybe it helps to persuade her." He assumed a beamish expression again, for the morning (or rather early midday) was far too nice to be spent brooding over things that might, hopefully, never happen, and surveyed the breakfast that had been put on the table seemingly while he had still been asleep. "But now to breakfast! Oh good, the bacon they brought is already cold, the toast too... Did I really sleep _that_ soundly?"

"You did. I 'ad to answer the door, or those walnut-brained guinea-pigs would've unhinged it with their knocking, and the doorknob wouldn't let them in until I threatened to lockpick it with my sword."

"Quite uncomfortable, I imagine..."

"Well, told ya I hardly slept!"

He had actually meant the lock being picked by Mallymkun's sword, but setting the misunderstanding alright would be pretty impolite. No good morning for quarrels, when he was just waiting for Alice to stop by. Maybe. Hopefully! She did like going for walks, didn't she? Or should he have sent her a boater and planned a boat trip? Riding hat for a horseback ride together? (Provided she did ride at least as seldom as he, and not only on dogs or bandersnatches; he wouldn't mount a bandersnatch, for sure!) Nightcap for a night of star-gazing? No, that might cause a misunderstanding. The Hatter snickered about this idea, his cheeks assuming a slightly pinkish colour. Whereas, maybe he would leave the nightcap for later...

"Are ya list'ning?"

Tarrant jumped.

"Of course, Mally!" he answered dutifully and poured the breakfast tea.

If Alice wasn't sure if she should stay in Underland, Tarrant mused while he enhanced the cold toast with some delicious marmalade, he would have to gently persuade her. And if she still would not consent... He frowned at this thought, but the thought was not in the least impressed and stayed, vexed him and grinned impertinently. In return, Tarrant chased it away with the memory of Alice-just-returned. It worked, and additionally made himself smile dreamily. At least for a moment, then the thought of Alice not consenting returned, and it had brought reinforcements. Dear Alice. He would, of course, be the last one to force anything on her she didn't want herself. So if she decided to leave again, he would have to live with it. More years without Alice, without the fresh breeze that made breathing and living so much easier and so much more enjoyable... Oh, but maybe he'd just follow her the Otherland! Why not. If she would not stay here – he, on the contrary, would not hesitate an instant! What she had told him about her world seemed odd, very odd, but it would certainly be an adventure! The decision was satisfying enough. He liked to have more than one option. One hat was not enough, as it was known in common parlance. And as with hats, he would just keep creating satisfying options to have Alice by his side, be it in Underland or in any other land imaginable.

The walk with Alice was most delightful. They strolled along beneath blooming apple trees – thankfully the White Queen had a penchant for blooming trees and had them planted everywhere around her residence; her courtiers spent much of their time persuading the trees to keep up their nice apparel, and honestly, if one of those polite and gentle-minded fellows kept talking for hours on end, who would not sprout a few blossoms just to make him shut up? –, over rolling meadows and along rippling brooks, chatting away with such ease as if none of them had ever left. Everything was talked over. Alice was eager to hear what had befallen while she had been away, how everyone was who she had not seen for such a long time, and Tarrant told her countless stories with delight, only suppressing some minor details that she would not have liked too much, like the black days that had followed every Gribling Day, or how Thackery once had thought the Red Queen had returned and for two days the horrible feeling of the Resistance days had returned. The Hatter noticed his shirt frill grow dull and quickly angled for a new subject. But Alice's acute glance had already noticed the change. Her hand stole into his, and this alone would have sufficed to brighten every colour of the Hatter's outfit.

"I thought you might want to know that I've made a decision this morning," she added with pretended casualness, a twinkling smile in her eyes. "I have decided to stay for a while, at least until Frilwick Day – and until then maybe we'll be able to find a solution for, well, for everything."


End file.
